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SHAKESPEARE'S 



TRAGEDY OF 



KING LEAR 



Edited, with Notes, 



WILLIAM J. ROLFE, A.M., 

FORMERLY HEAD MASTER OF THE HIGH SCHOOL, CAMBRIDGE, MASS. 



WITH ENGRA VINGS. 




$m of cr 



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_2 F WASH) 

NEW YORK" 

HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN SQUARE. 



l880. 






• ENGLISH CLASSICS. 

Edited by WM. J. ROLFE, A.M. 

Illustrated. i6mo, Cloth, 60 cents per volume ; Paper, 40 cents per volume. 



Shakespeare's Plays. 



Othello. 

Julius Caesar. 

Henry V. 

Richard II. 

The Merchant of Venice. 

A Midsummer-Night's Dream. 

Macbeth. 

Hamlet. 

Henry VIII. 

Much Ado about Nothing. 



Romeo and Juliet. 
As You Like It. 
The Tempest. 
Twelfth Night. 
The Winter's Tale. 
King John. 
Henry IV. Part I. 
Henry IV. Part II- 
Richard III. 
King Lear. 



Goldsmith's Select Poems. 
Gray's Select Poems. 



Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 

Any of the above works will be sent by mail, postage prepaid., to any part 
of the United States, on receipt of the price. 



Copyright, 1880, by Harper & Brothers. 

id. copy 

SUPPLIED FROM 

COPYRIGHT FILES 
JANUARY, 1JU. 



PREFACE. 



I have little to say by way of preface to this edition of King Lear ex- 
cept that, as in the case of Macbeth, Hamlet, and Romeo and Juliet, I have 
been under constant obligations to Furness's " New Variorum" edition, 
in which I have found a good part of my work done to my hand. I have 
depended on it almost entirely for the collation of the early and modern 
texts, and in the Notes I have been indebted to it for much valuable 
matter which I could hardly have found for myself. For the benefit of 
the teacher, who cannot afford to do without this encyclopaedic edition, 
I have referred to it in many cases where my limits forbade my borrow- 
ing from it further. 

In my text I have followed the folio of 1623 almost as closely as 
Furness has done ; but I have not hesitated to vary from it whenever 
another reading seemed to me unquestionably better. Those who are 
disposed to take greater liberties with the original text can choose 
for themselves among the varicz lectiones recorded in the Notes, or try 
their own hands at emendation if they will. 

Cambridge, Sept. 6, 1880. 







OLD MILL AT STRATFORD. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Introduction to King Lear , , . . 9 

I. The History of the Play 9 

II. The Sources of the Plot 13 

III. Critical Comments on the Play 14 

KING LEAR 41 

Act 1 43 

" II 72 

" III 94 

« IV 1 14 

" V 138 

Notes 155 




TITIAN S PROMETHEUS. 

Sharp-tooth' d unkindness, like a vulture (ii. 4. 129). 




LEAR (AFTER SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS). 



INTRODUCTION 



THE TRAGEDY OF KING LEAR. 



I. THE HISTORY OF THE PLAY. 

King Lear was first published in quarto form in i6o8,with 
the following title-page : 

M.William Shak-speare: | HIS | True Chronicle Historie 
of the life and | death of King lear and his three | Daugh- 
ters. | With the vnfortunate life of Edgar, sonne | and heire 
to the Earle of Gloster, and his | sullen and assumed humor 
of | Tom of Bedlam : | As it was played before the Kings 
Maiestie at Whitehall 7>pon \ S. Stephans night in Christmas 
Hollidayes. \ By his Maiesties seruants playing vsually at 
theGloabe | on the Bancke-side. | LONDON, \ Printed for 



io KING LEAR. 

Nathaniel Butter, and are to be sold at his shop in Pauls \ 
Church-yard at the signe of the Pide Bull neere | S l . Austins 
Gate. 1608. 

A second quarto edition was issued by the same publisher 
in the same year, the title-page of which is similar, except 
that instead of the imprint "LONDON" etc., it has only 
"Printed for Nathaniel Butter. | 1608." 

Some editors have stated that a third quarto appeared in 
1608; but this is an error which has arisen from the fact 
that no two copies of the 1st quarto are exactly alike. The 
Cambridge editors account for this by supposing that cor- 
rections were made while the edition was printing, and that 
the corrected and uncorrected sheets were bound up indis- 
criminately.* 

In the folio of 1623 Lear occupies pages 283-309 in the 
division of " Tragedies," and is divided into acts and scenes. 
The critics are fully agreed that the text is, on the whole, 

* Furness (p. 356) is inclined to think that the binder was responsible 
for the confusion. He adds : " The text of these quarto editions was ev- 
idently set up piecemeal. For some reason or other 'Master N. Butter ' 
was in a hurry to publish his 'booke,' and he therefore sent out the 
' copy,' divided into several parts, to several compositors, and these dif- 
ferent parts, when printed, were dispatched to a binder to be stitched (it 
is not probable that any of the Shakespearian quartos were more than 
merely stitched, or had other than paper covers). We learn from Ar- 
ber's invaluable Transcript of the Stationers' Registers, ii. 881-2, that the 
binding was not done by the printers, and as there were nearly fifty free- 
men binders at that time in London, there must have been among them 
various degrees of excellence. As ill-luck would have it, the several 
portions of this tragedy of Lear fell to the charge of a careless binder, 
and the signatures, corrected and uncorrected, from the different printers, 
were mixed up, to the confusing extent in which the few copies that sur- 
vive have come down to us." 

We have followed Furness in considering the " Pide Bull " quarto as 
the earlier of the two, though, as he remarks, we have only circumstan- 
tial evidence in favour of this view. The Cambridge editors, after citing 
the other quarto as "Qi"in their collation of the two texts, state in their 
preface that, after all, they believe it to be the later edition. 




INTROD UCTION. ! j 

much better than that of the quartos, and that it was printed 
from an independent manuscript. Each text, however, is 
valuable as supplying the deficiencies of the other. The 
quartos, according to Furness, contain about two hundred 
and twenty lines that are not in the folios, and the folios fifty 
lines that are not in the quartos.* One entire scene (iv. 3) 
is omitted in the folios. This discrepancy in the texts has 
been the subject of much investigation and discussion. 
Johnson believed that "the folio was printed from Shake- 
speare's last revision, carelessly and hastily performed, with 
more thought of shortening the scenes than of continuing 
the action." - Knight infers from the metrical imperfections 
of the quartos that they could not have been printed from 
the author's manuscript, though they may have been from a 
genuine play-house copy ; the omissions in the folio, which 
(including iv. 3) are chiefly descriptive, were made, he thinks, 
by the poet, who "sternly resolved to let the effect of this 
wonderful drama entirely depend upon its action." Staun- 
ton, after a careful examination of the two texts, is convinced 
that in the folio we have "a later and revised copy of the 
play;" whether the curtailment is the work of the author it 
is now impossible to determine, but the additions are un- 
doubtedly his. Delius, who has subjected the texts to a 
minute comparison, comes to the conclusion that "in the 
quartos we have the play as it was originally performed be- 
fore King James, and before the audience at the Globe, but 
sadly marred by misprints, printer's sophistications, and 
omissions, perhaps due to an imperfect and illegible manu- 
script •" while "in the folio we have a later manuscript, be- 
longing to the theatre, and more nearly identical with what 

* See Furness, p. 359. He subsequently (p. 364) quotes Koppel as 
finding "287 more lines in the quarto than in the folio, and no lines in 
the folio which are wanting in the quarto." There seems to be "an er- 
ror in the returns," but we have not attempted to determine by a "re- 
count " where it lies. 



12 



KING LEAR. 



Shakespeare wrote." The omissions of the quartos, he be- 
lieves, are the blunders of the printers ; the omissions of the 
folio are the abridgments of the actors. Koppel comes to 
a conclusion directly opposed to that of Delius, and main- 
tains that the omissions and additions in both texts were 
mainly the work of the poet himself; that "the original form 
was, essentially, that of the quarto ; then followed a longer 
form, with the additions in the folio, as substantially our mod- 
ern editions have again restored them ; then the shortest form 
as it is preserved for us in the folio." Schmidt supposes that 
the manuscript for the quarto was prepared from notes made 
during a performance on the stage, and was marred by the 
errors due to the imperfect memory of the actors and the ab- 
breviations and blunders of the copyist; and that the various 
readings of the quarto are consequently of no authority, and 
ought to be adopted only in the few instances in which they 
serve to correct indubitable errors in the folio. Fleay de- 
cides that "in the quarto we have the version of the play as 
it was performed on the 26th of December, 1606, before the 
King;" and that the folio is "an abridgment for stage pur- 
poses, most likely made after Shakespeare's retirement, and 
probably circa 1616-22."* 

The date of the play cannot be earlier than 1603 nor later 
than 1606. The former limit is fixed by the publication of 
Dr. Harsnet's Declaration of Popish I??ipostnres, from which 
Shakespeare got the names of some of the devils mentioned 
by Edgar in iii. 4; and the latter by the entry of the play in 
the Stationers' Registers, dated November 26, 1607, which 
states that it was performed "before the kinges maiestie at 
Whitehall vppon Sainct Stephens night at Christmas Last," 
that is, upon the 26th of December, 1606. 

Malone made the date 1605, seeing evidence in Edgar's 
"I smell the blood of a British man" (iii. 4. 173) that the 

* For a fuller presentation of these various views, see Furness, pp. 
359-373- 



INTRODUCTION. 



13 



play must have been written after James was proclaimed 
King oi Great Britain, October 24, 1604; but this cannot be 
regarded as conclusive, for, as Chalmers has shown, the unit- 
ed kingdoms were spoken of as "great Britain " by Daniel 
in 1603. 

Wright (C. P. eel. p. xv.) sees in Gloster's reference to 
"these late eclipses in the sun and moon " (i. 2. 94) an allu- 
sion to the great eclipse of the sun in October, 1605, which 
had been preceded by an eclipse of the moon within the 
space of a month; and the words in the same speech, 
" machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all ruinous disor- 
ders follow us disquietly to our graves," he thinks, may pos- 
sibly refer to the Gunpowder Plot of November 5, 1605. 
Moberly also believes that the play was written in 1605-6, 
"in the midst of the stirring events connected with the Gun- 
powder Plot." 

Dyce and Fleay adopt Malone's view that the date is early 
in 1605; Delius thinks it must be placed in 1604 or 1605; 
Dowden and Furnivall make it 1605-6. 

II. THE SOURCES OF THE PLOT. 

The story of King Lear and his three daughters is one of 
the oldest in English literature. It is told by Geoffrey of 
Monmouth in his Historia Britonum, by Layamon in his 
Brut, by Robert of Gloucester, by Fabyan in his Chronicle, 
by Spenser in the Faerie Quee?ie, by Holinshed in his Chron- 
icle, by Camden in his Remaines, in the Mir r our for Magis- 
trates, in Warner's Albions England, and elsewhere in prose 
and verse. It had also been dramatized in the Chronicle 
History of King Lei r, which, according to Malone and Halli- 
well, was written in 1593 or 1594. This play is probably the 
same that was entered in the Stationers' Registers in 1594, 
and that was reprinted in 1605 — possibly, as Malone and 
Fleay have urged, on account of the success of Shakespeare's 
Lear, then just brought out. The author of this old play 



I4 KING LEAR. 

probably took the story from Holinshed, and Shakespeare 
doubtless drew his materials either from the same source or 
from the old play. But whether he was indebted to the one 
or to the other, the real debt, as we have so often had occa- 
sion to remark in the case of other of his dramas, is so in- 
significant that it is scarce worth the tracing or recording. 
As Furness well says, " the distance is always immeasur- 
able between the hint and the fulfilment; what to our pur- 
blind eyes is a bare, naked rock, becomes, when gilded by 
Shakespeare's heavenly alchemy, encrusted thick all over 
with jewels. When, after reading one of his tragedies, we 
turn to what we are pleased to call the 'original of his plot,' 
I am reminded of those glittering gems, of, which Heine 
speaks, that we see at night in lovely gardens, and think 
must have been left there by kings' children at play; but 
when we look for these jewels by day we see only wretched 
little worms which crawl painfully away, and which the foot 
forbears to crush only out of strange pity." 

III. CRITICAL COMMENTS ON THE PLAY. 
[From Coleridge's " Notes and Lectures upon Shakespeare.'''' *] 

Of all Shakespeare's plays Macbeth is the most rapid, Ham- 
let the slowest in movement; Lear combines length with ra- 
pidity, like the hurricane and the whirlpool, absorbing while 
it advances. It begins as a stormy day in summer, with 
brightness ; but that brightness is lurid, and anticipates the 
tempest. 

It was not without forethought, nor is it without its due sig- 
nificance, that the division of Lear's kingdom is in the first 
six lines of the play stated as a thing already determined in 
all its particulars, previously to the trial of professions, as 
the relative rewards of which the daughters were to be made 
to consider their several portions. The strange, yet by no 
means unnatural, mixture of selfishness, sensibility, and habit 
* Coleridge's Works (Harper's ed.), vol. iv. p. 133 fol. 



INTR OD UC T/OJV. j 5 

of feeling derived from, and fostered by, the particular rank 
and usages of the individual ; the intense desire of being in- 
tensely beloved, selfish, and yet characteristic of the selfish- 
ness of a loving and kindly nature alone ; the self-support- 
less leaning for all pleasure on another's breast; the crav- 
ing after sympathy with a prodigal disinterestedness, frus- 
trated by its own ostentation, and the mode and nature of 
its claims ; the anxiety, the distrust, the jealousy, which more 
or less accompany all selfish affections, and are amongst the 
surest contradistinctions of mere fondness from true love, 
and which originate Lear's eager wish to enjoy his daugh- 
ter's violent professions, whilst the inveterate habits of sov- 
ereignty convert the wish into claim and positive right, and 
an incompliance with it into crime and treason; — these facts, 
these passions, these moral verities, on which the whole trag- 
edy is founded, are all prepared for, and will to the retrospect 
be found implied, in these first four or five lines of the play. 
They let us know that the trial is but a trick; and that the 
grossness of the old king's rage is in part the natural result 
of a silly trick suddenly and most unexpectedly baffled and 
disappointed. . . . 

Having thus, in the fewest words, and in a natural reply to 
as natural a question, which yet answers the secondary pur- 
pose of attracting our attention to the difference or diversity 
between the characters of Cornwall and Albany, provided 
the premises and data, as it were, for our after-insight into 
the mind and mood of the person whose character, passions, 
and sufferings are the main subject-matter of the play; from 
Lear, the persona pattens of his drama, Shakespeare passes 
without delay to the second in importance, the chief agent 
and prime mover, and introduces Edmund to our acquaint- 
ance, preparing us, with the same felicity of judgment, and in 
the same easy and natural way, for his character in the seem- 
ingly casual communication of its origin and occasion. From 
the first drawing-up of the curtain Edmund has stood before 



x 6 KING LEAR. 

us in the united strength and beauty of earliest manhoo 
Our eyes have been questioning him. Gifted as he is wi 
high advantages of person, and further endowed by nature 
with a powerful intellect and a strong energetic will, even 
without any concurrence of circumstances and accident, pride 
will necessarily be the sin that most easily besets him. But 
Edmund is also the known and acknowledged son of the 
princely Gloster ■ he, therefore, has both the germ of pride 
and the conditions best fitted to evolve and ripen it into a 
predominant feeling. Yet hitherto no reason appears why it 
should be other than the not unusual pride of person, talent, 
and birth — a pride auxiliary, if not akin, to many virtues, 
and the natural ally of honourable impulses. But, alas ! in 
his own presence his own father takes shame to himself for 
the frank avowal that he is his father — he has " blushed so 
often to acknowledge him that he is now brazed to it." . . . 
This, and the consciousness of its notoriety ; the gnawing con- 
viction that every show of respect is an effort of courtesy which 
recalls, while it represses, a contrary feeling — this is the ever 
trickling flow of wormwood and gall into the wounds of pride ; 
the corrosive virus which inoculates pride with a venom not 
its own, with envy, hatred, and a lust for that power which, 
in its blaze of radiance, would hide the dark spots on his 
disk ; with pangs of shame personally undeserved, and there- 
fore felt as wrongs ; and with a blind ferment of vindictive 
working towards the occasions and causes, especially towards 
a brother, whose stainless birth and lawful honours were the 
constant remembrancers of his own debasement, and were 
ever in the way to prevent all chance of its being unknown 
or overlooked and forgotten. Add to this that, with excel- 
lent judgment, and provident for the claims of the moral 
sense ; for that which, relatively to the drama, is called po- 
etic justice, and as the fittest means for reconciling the feel- 
ings of the spectators to the horrors of Gloster's after-suffer- 
ings — at least, of rendering them somewhat less unendurable 



:th 

ue 



INTRO D UCTION. r 7 

(for I will not disguise my conviction that in this one point 
the tragic in this play has been urged beyond the outermost 
mark and ne plus ultra of the dramatic), Shakespeare has 
precluded all excuse and palliation of the guilt incurred by 
both the parents of the base-born Edmund, by Gloster's con- 
fession that he was at the time a married man, and already 
blest with a lawful heir of his fortunes. . . . 

By the circumstances here enumerated as so many predis- 
posing causes, Edmund's character might well be deemed 
already sufficiently explained, and our minds prepared for it. 
But in this tragedy the story or fable constrained Shakespeare 
to introduce wickedness in an outrageous form in the per- 
sons of Regan and Goneril. He had read nature too heed- 
fully not to know that courage, intellect, and strength of char- 
acter are the most impressive forms of power j and that to 
power in itself, without reference to any moral end, an inev- 
itable admiration and complacency appertains, whether it be 
displayed in the conquests of a Bonaparte or Tamerlane, or 
in the form and the thunder of a cataract. But in the exhi- 
bition of such a character it was of the highest importance 
to prevent the guilt from passing into utter monstrosity, which, 
again, depends on the presence or absence of causes and 
temptations sufficient to account for the wickedness, without 
the necessity of recurring to a thorough fiendishness of nat- 
ure for its origination. For such are the appointed relations 
of intellectual power to truth, and of truth to goodness, that 
it becomes both morally and poetically unsafe to present 
what is admirable — what our nature compels us to admire — 
in the mind and what is most detestable in the heart as co- 
existing in the same individual, without any apparent connec- 
tion or any modification of the one by the other. That Shake- 
speare has in one instance — that of Iago — approached to 
this, and that he has done it successfully, is, perhaps, the 
most astonishing proof of his genius and the opulence of its 
resources. But in the present tragedy, in which he was 

B 






1 8 KING LEAR. 

compelled to present a Goneril and a Regan, it was most 
carefully to be avoided ; and, therefore, the only one con- 
ceivable addition to the inauspicious influences on the pre- 
formation of Edmund's character is given in the information 
that all the kindly counteractions to the mischievous feelings 
of shame which might have been derived from co-domestica- 
tion with Edgar and their common father had been cut off 
by his absence from home and foreign education from boy- 
hood to the present time, and a prospect of its continuance, 
as if to preclude all risk of his interference with the father's 
views for the elder and legitimate son : 

" He hath been out nine years, and away he shall again." 

[From Hazlitt'' s " Characters of Shakespear^s Plays.' 1 ''*] 
We wish that we could pass this play over and say noth- 
ing about it. All that we can say must fall far short of the 
subject, or even of what we ourselves conceive of it. To at- 
tempt to give a description of the play itself, or of its effect 
upon the mind, is mere impertinence ; yet we must say some- 
thing. It is, then, the best of all Shakespear's plays, for it is 
the one in which he was the most in earnest. He was here 
fairly caught in the web of his own imagination. The pas- 
sion which he has taken as his subject is that which strikes 
its root deepest into the human heart, of which the bond is 
the hardest to be unloosed, and the cancelling and tearing 
to pieces of which gives the greatest revulsion to the frame. 
This depth of nature, this force of passion, this tug and war 
of the elements of our being, this firm faith in filial piety, and 
the giddy anarchy and whirling tumult of the thoughts at 
finding the prop failing it ; the contrast between the fixed, im- 
movable basis of natural affection and the rapid, irregular 
starts of imagination, suddenly wrenched from all its accus- 
tomed holds and resting-places in the soul — this is what 

* Characters of Shakespear's Plays, by William Hazlitt ; edited by W. 
Carew Hazlitt (London, 1869), p.ToS fol. 



INTRODUCTION. I9 

Shakespear has given, and what nobody else but he could 
give. So we believe. The mind of Lear, staggering between 
the weight of attachment and the hurried movements of pas- 
sion, is like a tall ship driven about by the winds, buffeted by 
the furious waves, but that still rides above the storm, having 
its anchor fixed in the bottom of the sea ; or it is like the 
sharp rock circled by the eddying whirlpool that foams and 
beats against it, or like the solid promontory pushed from its 
basis by the force of an earthquake. 

The character of Lear itself is very finely conceived for 
the purpose. It is the only ground on which such a story 
could be built with the greatest truth and effect. It is his 
rash haste, his violent impetuosity, his blindness to every thing 
but the dictates of his passions or affections, that produces 
all his misfortunes, that aggravates his impatience of them, 
that enforces our pity for him. The part which Cordelia bears 
in the scene is extremely beautiful ; the story is almost told 
in the first words she utters. We see at once the precipice 
on which the poor old king stands from his own extravagant 
and credulous importunity, the indiscreet simplicity of her 
love (which, to be sure, has a little of her father's obstinacy 
in it), and the hollowness of her sisters' pretensions. Almost 
the first burst of that noble tide of passion which runs through 
the play is in the remonstrance of Kent to his royal master 
on the injustice of his sentence against his youngest daugh- 
ter : " Be Kent unmannerly, when Lear is mad !" This man- 
ly plainness, which draws down on him the displeasure of the 
unadvised king, is worthy of the fidelity with which he adheres 
to his fallen fortunes. The true character of the two eldest 
daughters, Regan and Goneril (they are so thoroughly hate- 
ful that we do not even like to repeat their names), breaks 
out in their answer to Cordelia, who desires them to treat 
their father well : " Prescribe not us our duties " — their ha- 
tred of advice being in proportion to their determination to 
do wrong, and to their hypocritical pretensions to do right. 



20 KING LEAR. 

Their deliberate hypocrisy adds the last finishing to the odi- 
ousness of their characters. It is the absence of this detest- 
able quality that is the only relief in the character of Ed- 
mund the Bastard, and that at times reconciles us to him. 
We are not tempted to exaggerate the guilt of his conduct 
when he himself gives it up as a bad business and writes 
himself down "plain villain." Nothing more can be said 
about it. His religious honesty in this respect is admira- 
ble 

It has been said, and, we think, justly, that the third act 
of Othello and the first three acts of Lear are Shakespear's 
great masterpieces in the logic of passion ; that they contain 
the highest examples, not only of the force of individual pas- 
sion, but of its dramatic vicissitudes and striking effects aris- 
ing from the different circumstances and characters of the 
persons speaking. We see the ebb and flow of the feeling, 
its pauses and feverish starts, its impatience of opposition, 
its accumulating force when it has time to re-collect itself, 
the manner in which it avails itself of every passing word or 
gesture, its haste to repel insinuation, the alternate contrac- 
tion and dilatation of the soul, and all the "dazzling fence 
of controversy," in this mortal combat with poisoned weap- 
ons aimed at the heart, where each wound is fatal. We see 
in Othello how the unsuspecting frankness and impetuous 
passions of the Moor are played upon and exasperated by 
the artful dexterity of Iago. In the present play, that which 
aggravates the sense of sympathy in the reader, and of uncon- 
trollable anguish in the swollen heart of Lear, is the petrifying 
indifference, the cold, calculating, obdurate selfishness of his 
daughters. His keen passions seem whetted on their stony 
hearts. The contrast would be too painful, the shock too 
great, but for the intervention of the Fool, whose well-timed 
levity comes in to break the continuity of feeling when it can 
no longer be borne, and to bring into play again the fibres 
of the heart just as they are growing rigid from overstrained 



I 



INTRODUCTION. 21 

excitement. The imagination is glad to take refuge in the 
half-comic, half-serious, comments of the Fool, just as the 
mind, under the extreme anguish of a surgical operation, 
vents itself in sallies of wit. The character was also a gro- 
tesque ornament of the barbarous times in which alone the 
tragic groundwork of the story could be laid. In another 
point of view it is indispensable, inasmuch as while it is a 
diversion to the too great intensity of our disgust, it carries 
the pathos to the highest point of which it is capable, by 
showing the pitiable weakness of the old king's conduct, and 
its irretrievable consequences in the most familiar point of 
view. Lear may well " beat the gate which let his folly in" 
after, as the Fool says, "he has made his daughters his 
mothers.". . . 

Shakespear's mastery over his subject, if it was not art, 
was owing to a knowledge of the connecting-links of the pas- 
sions, and their effect upon the mind, still more wonderful 
than any systematic adherence to rules ; and that anticipat- 
ed and outdid all the efforts of the most refined art not in- 
spired and rendered instinctive by genius. . . . 

Four things have struck us in reading Lear : 

1. That poetry is an interesting study, for this reason, that 
it relates to whatever is most interesting in human life. 
Whoever, therefore, has a contempt for poetry has a con- 
tempt for himself and humanity. 

2. That the language of poetry is superior to the language 
of painting, because the strongest of our recollections relate 
to feelings, not to faces. 

3. That the greatest strength of genius is shown in describ- 
ing the strongest passions; for the power of the imagination, 
in works of invention, must be in proportion to the force of 
the natural impressions which are the subject of them. 

4. That the circumstance which balances the pleasure 
against the pain in tragedy is, that in proportion to the 
greatness of the evil is our sense and desire of the opposite 



22 KING LEAR. 

good excited ; and that our sympathy with actual suffering 
is lost in the strong impulse given to our natural affections, 
and carried away with the swelling tide of passion that gush- 
es from and relieves the heart. 

[From SchlegeVs "Dramatic Literature?' '*] 
As in Macbeth terror reaches its utmost height, in King 
Lear the science of compassion is exhausted. The principal 
characters here are not those who act, but those who suffer. 
We have not in this, as in most tragedies, the picture of a 
calamity in which the sudden blows of fate seem still to hon- 
our the head which they strike, and where the loss is always 
accompanied by some flattering consolation in the memory 
of the former possession ; but a fall from the highest eleva- 
tion into the deepest abyss of misery, where humanity is strip- 
ped of all external and internal advantages, and given up a 
prey to naked helplessness. The threefold dignity of a king, 
an old man, and a father is dishonoured by the cruel ingrati- 
tude of his unnatural daughters ; the old Lear, who, out of a 
foolish tenderness, has given away every thing, is driven out 
to the world a wandering beggar; the childish imbecility to 
which he was fast advancing changes into the wildest insan- 
ity; and when he is rescued from the disgraceful destitution 
to which he was abandoned, it is too late : the kind consola- 
tions of filial care and attention and of true friendship are 
now lost on him ; his bodily and mental powers are destroy- 
ed beyond all hope of recovery ; and all that now remains to 
him of life is the capability of loving and suffering beyond 
measure. What a picture we have in the meeting of Lear 
and Edgar in a tempestuous night and in a wretched hovel ! 
The youthful Edgar has, by the wicked arts of his brother, 
and through his father's blindness, fallen, as the old Lear, 
from the rank to which his birth entitled him ; and, as the 

* Lectures on Dramatic Art and Literature, by A. W. Schlegel ; Black's 
translation, revised by Morrison (London, 1846), p. 411 fol. 



INTRODUCTION. 23 

only means of escaping further persecution, is reduced to 
assume the disguise of a beggar tormented by evil spirits. 
The king's fool, notwithstanding the voluntary degradation 
which is implied in his situation, is, after Kent, Lear's most 
faithful associate, his wisest counsellor. This good-hearted 
fool clothes reason with the livery of his motley garb; the 
high-born beggar acts the part of insanity ; and both, were 
they even in reality what they seem, would still be enviable 
in comparison with the king, who feels that the violence of 
his grief threatens to overpower his reason. The meeting 
of Edgar and the blinded Gloster is equally heart-rending; 
nothing can be more affecting than to see the ejected son 
become the father's guide, and the good angel who, under 
the disguise Of insanity, saves him by an ingenious and pious 
fraud from the horror and despair of self-murder. But who 
can possibly enumerate all the different combinations and 
situations by which our minds are here, as it were, stormed 
by the poet? Respecting the structure of the whole, I will 
only make one observation. The story of Lear and his 
daughters was left by Shakspeare exactly as he found it in a 
fabulous tradition, with all the features characteristical of the 
simplicity of old times. But in that tradition there is not 
the slightest trace of the story of Gloster and his sons, which 
was derived by Shakspeare from another source. The in- 
corporation of the two stories has been censured as destruc- 
tive of the unity of action. But whatever contributes to the 
intrigue or the denouement must always possess unity. And 
with what ingenuity and skill are the two main parts of the 
composition dovetailed into one another! The pity felt by 
Gloster for the fate of Lear becomes the means which ena- 
bles his son Edmund to effect his complete destruction, and 
affords the outcast Edgar an opportunity of being the saviour 
of his father. On the other hand, Edmund is active in the 
cause of Regan and Goneril; and the criminal passion which 
they both entertain for him induces them to execute justice 



24 



KING IEAR. 



on each other and themselves. The laws of the drama have 
therefore been sufficiently complied with ; but that is the 
least : it is the very combination which constitutes the sub- 
lime beauty of the work. The two cases resemble each oth- 
er in the main : an infatuated father is blind towards his 
well-disposed child ; and the unnatural children, whom he 
prefers, requite him by the ruin of all his happiness. But all 
the circumstances are so different, that these stories, while 
they each make a correspondent impression on the heart, 
form a complete contrast for the imagination. Were Lear 
alone to suffer from his daughters, the impression would be 
limited to the powerful compassion felt by us for his private 
misfortune. But two such unheard-of examples taking place 
at the same time have the appearance of a great commotion 
in the moral world. The picture becomes gigantic, and fills 
us with such alarm as we should entertain at the idea that 
the heavenly bodies might one day fall from their appointed 
orbits. To save in some degree the honour of human nature, 
Shakspeare never wishes his spectators to forget that the 
story takes place in a dreary and barbarous age : he lays 
particular stress on the circumstance that the Britons of that 
day were still heathens, although he has not made all the re- 
maining circumstances to coincide learnedly with the time 
which he has chosen. From this point of view we must 
judge of many coarsenesses in expression and manners; for 
instance, the immodest manner in which Gloster acknowl- 
edges his bastard, Kent's quarrel with the steward, and more 
especially the cruelty personally inflicted on Gloster by the 
Duke of Cornwall. Even the virtue of the honest Kent bears 
the stamp of an iron age, in which the good and the bad dis- 
play the same uncontrollable energy. Great qualities have 
not been superfluously assigned to the king; the poet could 
command our sympathy for his situation, without concealing 
what he had done to bring himself into it. Lear is choleric, 
overbearing, and almost childish from age, when he drives 



INTRO D UCTION. 



25 



out his youngest daughter because she will not join in the 
hypocritical exaggerations of her sisters. But he has a warm 
and affectionate heart, which is susceptible of the most fer- 
vent gratitude ; and even rays of a high and kingly disposi- 
tion burst forth from the eclipse of his understanding. Of 
Cordelia's heavenly beauty of soul, painted in so few words, 
I will not venture to speak; she can only be named in the 
same breath with Antigone. Her death has been thought 
too cruel ; and in England the piece is in acting so far alter- 
ed that she remains victorious and happy. I must own, I 
cannot conceive what ideas of art and dramatic connection 
those persons have who suppose that we can at pleasure tack 
a double conclusion to a tragedy : a melancholy one for hard- 
hearted spectators, and a happy one for souls of a softer 
mould. After surviving so many sufferings, Lear can only 
die ; and what more truly tragic end for him than to die from 
grief for the death of Cordelia? And if he is also to be saved 
and to pass the remainder of his days in happiness, the whole 
loses its signification. According to Shakspeare's plan, the 
guilty, it is true, are all punished, for wickedness destroys it- 
self; but the virtues that would bring help and succour are 
everywhere too late, or overmatched by the cunning activity 
of malice. The persons of this drama have only such a faint 
belief in Providence as heathens may be supposed to have; 
and the poet here wishes to show us that this belief requires 
a wider range than the dark pilgrimage on earth, to be es- 
tablished in full extent. 

[From Mrs. Jamesoii's " Characteristics of 'Wome??.''' '*] 
There is in the beauty of Cordelia's character an effect 
too sacred for words, and almost too deep for tears ; within 
her heart is a fathomless well of purest affection, but its 
waters sleep in silence and obscurity — never failing in their 
depth and never overflowing in their fulness. Every thing in 
* American ed. (Boston, 1857), p. 280 fol. 



26 KING LEAR. 

her seems to lie beyond our view, and affects us in a manner 
which we feel rather than perceive. The character appears 
to have no surface, no salient points upon which the fancy 
can readily seize : there is little external development of in- 
tellect, less of passion, and still less of imagination. It is 
completely made out in the course of a few scenes, and we 
are surprised to find that in those few scenes there is matter 
for a life of reflection, and materials enough for twenty her- 
oines. If Lear be the grandest of Shakspeare's tragedies, 
Cordelia in herself, as a human being, governed by the purest 
and holiest impulses and motives, the most refined from all 
dross of selfishness and passion, approaches near to perfec- 
tion ; and in her adaptation, as a dramatic personage, to a 
determinate plan of action, may be pronounced altogether 
perfect. The character, to speak of it critically as a poetical 
conception, is not, however, to be comprehended at once, or 
easily; and in the same manner Cordelia, as a woman, is one 
whom we must have loved before we could have known her, 
and known her long before we could have known her truly. 

Most people, I believe, have heard the story of the young 
German artist Muller, who, while employed in copying and 
engraving Raffaelle's Madonna del Sisto, was so penetrated 
by its celestial beauty, so distrusted his own power to do jus- 
tice to it, that between admiration and despair he fell into a 
sadness; thence, through the usual gradations, into a melan- 
choly; thence into madness; and died just as he had put the 
finishing-stroke to his own matchless work, which had occu- 
pied him for eight years. With some slight tinge of this con- 
centrated kind of enthusiasm, I have learned to contemplate 
the character of Cordelia ; I have looked into it till the rev- 
elation of its hidden beauty, and an intense feeling of the 
wonderful genius which created it, have filled me at once 
with delight and despair. Like poor Muller, but with more 
reason, I do despair of ever conveying, through a different 
and inferior medium, the impression made on my own mind 



INTRO D UCTION. 2 y 

to the mind of another. . . . Amid the awful, the overpow- 
ering interest of the story, amid the terrible convulsions of 
passion and suffering, and pictures of moral and physical 
WTetchedness which harrow up the soul, the tender influence 
of Cordelia, like that of a celestial visitant, is felt and ac- 
knowledged without being quite understood. Like a soft 
star that shines for a moment from behind a stormy cloud, 
and the next is swallowed up in tempest and darkness, the 
impression it leaves is beautiful and deep, but vague. Speak 
of Cordelia to a critic or to a general reader, all agree in the 
beauty of the portrait, for all must feel it ; but when we come 
to details, I have heard more various and opposite opinions 
relative to her than any other of Shakspeare's characters — a 
proof of what I have advanced in the first instance, that from 
the simplicity with which the character is dramatically treat- 
ed, and the small space it occupies, few are aware of its in- 
ternal power, or its wonderful depth of purpose. 

It appears to me that the whole character rests upon the 
two sublimest principles of human action — the love of truth 
and the sense of duty ; but these, when they stand alone (as 
in the Antigone), are apt to strike us as severe and cold. 
Shakspeare has, therefore, wreathed them round with the 
dearest attributes of our feminine nature, the power of feel- 
ing and inspiring affection. The first part of the play shows 
us how Cordelia is loved, the second part how she can love. 
. . . What is it which lends to Cordelia that peculiar and in- 
dividual truth of character which distinguishes her from every 
other human being? It is a natural reserve, a tardiness of 
disposition, " which often leaves the history unspoke which 
it intends to do-" a subdued quietness of deportment and 
expression, a veiled shyness thrown over all her emotions, 
her language, and her manner; making the outward demon- 
stration invariably fall short of what we know to be the feel- 
ing within. Not only is the portrait singularly beautiful and 
interesting in itself, but the conduct of Cordelia, and the part 



2 8 KING LEAR. 

which she bears in the beginning of the story, is rendered 
consistent and natural by the wonderful truth and delicacy 
with which this peculiar disposition is sustained throughout 
the play. 

In early youth, and more particularly if we are gifted with 
a lively imagination, such a character as that of Cordelia is 
calculated above every other to impress and captivate us. 
Any thing like mystery, any thing withheld or withdrawn from 
our notice, seizes on our fancy by awakening our curiosity. 
Then we are won more by what we half perceive and half 
create than by what is openly expressed and freely bestowed. 
But this feeling is a part of our young life : when time and 
years have chilled us, when we can no longer afford to send 
our souls abroad, nor from our own superfluity of life and 
sensibility spare the materials out of which we build a shrine 
for our idol — then do we seek, we ask, we thirst for that 
warmth of frank, confiding tenderness which revives in us 
the withered affections and feelings buried, but not dead. 
Then the excess of love is welcomed, not repelled; it is gra- 
cious to us as the sun and clew to the seared and riven trunk 
with its few green leaves. Lear is old — " fourscore and up- 
ward " — but we see what he has been in former days : the 
ardent passions of youth have turned to rashness and wilful- 
ness ; he is long past that age when we are more blessed 
in what we bestow than in what, we receive. When he says 
to his daughters, " I gave ye all !" we feel that he requires 
all in return, with a jealous, restless, exacting affection which 
defeats its own wishes. How many such are there in the 
world ! How many to sympathize with the fiery, fond old 
man when he shrinks as if petrified from Cordelia's quiet, 
calm reply ! 

"Lear. What can you say to draw 
A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak. 
" Cordelia. Nothing, my lord. 
"Lear. Nothing? 



INTRODUCTION. 2Q 

" Cordelia. Nothing. 

"Lea}-. Nothing can come of nothing ; speak again. 

"Cordelia. Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave 
My heart into my mouth. I love your majesty 
According to my bond ; no more, nor less." 

Now this is perfectly natural. Cordelia has penetrated 
the vile characters of her sisters. Is it not obvious that, in 
proportion as her own mind is pure and guileless, she must 
be disgusted with their gross hypocrisy and exaggeration, 
their empty protestations, their " plaited cunning ;" and 
would retire from all competition with what she so disdains 
and abhors, even into the opposite extreme? In such a case, 
as she says herself, 

" What should Cordelia do ? love and be silent ?" 
For the very expressions of Lear — 

" What can you say to draw 
A third more opulent than your sisters?" — 

are enough to strike dumb forever a generous, delicate, but 
shy disposition, such as Cordelia's, by holding out a bribe 
for professions. 

If Cordelia were not thus portrayed, this deliberate cool- 
ness would strike us as verging on harshness or obstinacy; 
but it is beautifully represented as a certain modification of 
character, the necessary result of feelings habitually, if not 
naturally, repressed ; and through the whole play we trace 
the same peculiar and individual disposition, the same ab- 
sence of all display, the same sobriety of speech veiling the 
most profound affections, the same quiet steadiness of pur- 
pose, the same shrinking from all exhibition of emotion. . . . 

As we do not estimate Cordelia's affection for her father 
by the coldness of her language, so neither should we meas- 
ure her indignation against her sisters by the mildness of her 
expressions. What, in fact, can be more eloquently signifi- 
cant, and at the same time more characteristic of Cordelia, 



30 KING LEAR. 

than the single line when she and her father are conveyed 
to their prison : 

"Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters V 

The irony here is so bitter and intense, and at the same 
time so quiet, so feminine, so dignified in the expression, 
that who but Cordelia would have uttered it in the same 
manner, or would have condensed such ample meaning into 
so few and simple words? 

We lose sight of Cordelia during the whole of the second 
and third and great part of the fourth act ; but towards the 
conclusion she reappears. Just as our sense of human mis- 
ery and wickedness, being carried to its extreme height, 
becomes nearly intolerable, "like an engine wrenching our 
frame of nature from its fixed place," then, like a redeeming 
angel, she descends to mingle in the scene, " loosening the 
springs of pity in our eyes," and relieving the impressions of 
pain and terror by those of admiration and a tender pleasure. 
For the catastrophe, it is indeed terrible ! wondrous terrible ! 
When Lear enters with Cordelia dead in his arms, compas- 
sion and awe so seize on all our faculties that we are left 
only to silence and to tears. But, if I might judge from my 
own sensations, the catastrophe of Lear is not so overwhelm- 
ing as the catastrophe of Othello. We do not turn away 
with the same feeling of absolute unmitigated despair. Cor- 
delia is a saint ready prepared for heaven — our earth is not 
good enough for her; and Lear — oh, who, after sufferings and 
tortures such as his, would wish to see his life prolonged ? 
What! replace a sceptre in that shaking hand? a crown upon 
that old grey head, on which the tempest had poured in its 
wrath, on which the deep dread -bolted thunders and the 
winged lightnings had spent their fury? Oh, never, never ! 



IN TROD UCTION. 



3 1 



[Frot?i Dowderts " Shakspe> r e. r ' '*] 
In King Lear, more than in any other of his plays, Shak- 
spere stands in presence of the mysteries of human life. A 
more impatient intellect would have proposed explanations 
of these. A less robust spirit would have permitted the 
dominant tone of the play to become an eager or pathetic 
wistfulness respecting the significance of these hard riddles 
in the destiny of man. Shakspere checks such wistful curi- 
osity, though it exists discernibly ; he will present life as it 
is; if life proposes inexplicable riddles, Shakspere's art must 
propose them also. But while Shakspere will present life as 
it is, and suggest no inadequate explanations of its difficult 
problems, he will gaze at life not only from within, but, if 
possible, also from an extra-mundane, extra-human point of 
view, and, gazing thence at life, will try to discern what aspect 
this fleeting and wonderful phenomenon presents to the eyes 
of gocls. Hence a grand irony in the tragedy of Lear; hence 
all in it that is great is also small; all that is tragically sub- 
lime is also grotesque. Hence it sees man walking in a vain 
shadow; groping in the mist; committing extravagant mis- 
takes; wandering from light into darkness; stumbling back 
again from darkness into light ; spending his strength in bar- 
ren and impotent rages; man in his weakness, his unreason, 
his affliction, his anguish, his poverty and meanness, his 
everlasting greatness and majesty. Hence, too, the charac- 
ters, while they remain individual men and women, are ideal, 
representative, typical; Goneril and Regan, the destructive 
force, the ravening egoism in humanity which is at war with 
all goodness; Kent, a clear, unmingled fidelity; Cordeli? 
unmingled tenderness and strength, a pure redeeming ? 
dour. As we read the play, we are haunted by a preser 
of something beyond the story of a suffering old man; 

* Shakspere : a Critical Study of his Mind and Art, by Edward 
den (2d ed. London, 1876), p. 258 fol. 



32 KING LEAR. 

become dimly aware that the play has some vast impersonal 
significance, like the Prometheus Bound of JEschy\us, and like 
Goethe's Faust. We seem to gaze upon " huge, cloudy sym- 
bols of some high romance." . . . 

But though ethical principles radiate through the play of 
Lear, its chief function is not, even indirectly, to teach or in- 
culcate moral truth, but rather, by the direct presentation of 
a vision of human life and of the enveloping forces of nature, 
to "free, arouse, dilate." We may be unable to set down in 
words any set of truths which we have been taught by the 
drama. But can we set down in words the precise moral 
significance of a fugue of Handel or a symphony of Beetho- 
ven ? We are kindled and aroused by them ; our whole nat- 
ure is quickened; it passes from the habitual, hard, encrusted, 
and cold condition into "the fluid and attaching state," the 
state in which we do not seek truth and beauty, but attract 
and are sought by them, the state in which "good thoughts 
stand before us like free children of God, and cry, 'We are 
come.' " * The play or the piece of music is not a code of 
precepts or a body of doctrine;! it is "a focus where a num- 
ber of vital forces unite in their purest energy." . . . 

Of the secondary plot of this tragedy — the story of 
Gloucester and his sons — Schlegel has explained one chief 
significance : " Were Lear alone to suffer from his daughters, 
the impression would be limited to the powerful compassion 
felt by us for his private misfortune. But two such unheard- 
of examples taking place at the same time have the appear- 
ance of a great commotion in the moral world; the picture 

N comes gigantic, and fills us with such alarm as we should 
^rtain at the idea that the heavenly bodies might one day 

^ethe's Conversations with Eckermann, Feb. 24, 1824. 
he, who ordinarily finds all preceding critics wrong, and himself 
]y right, discovers in King Lear Shakspefe's "warning letter 
ituralism and pseudo-rationalism ;" the play is translated into 
•discourse on infidelity. 



INTRODUCTION. 



33 



fall from their appointed orbits."* The treachery of Ed- 
mund, and the torture to which Gloucester is subjected, are 
out of the course of familiar experience ; but they are com- 
monplace and prosaic in comparison with the inhumanity of 
the sisters and the agony of Lear. When we have climbed 
the steep ascent of Gloucester's mount of passion, we see 
still above us another via dolorosa leading to that 

" Wall of eagle-baffling mountain, 
Black, wintry, dead, unmeasured," 

to which Lear is chained. Thus the one story of horror 
serves as a means of approach to the other, and helps us to 
conceive its magnitude. The two, as Schlegel observes, pro- 
duce the impression of a great commotion in the moral world. 
The thunder which breaks over our head does not suddenly 
cease to resound, but is reduplicated, multiplied, and magni- 
fied, and rolls away with long reverberation. 

Shakspere also desires to augment the moral mystery, the 
grand inexplicableness of the play. We can assign causes 
to explain the evil in Edmund's heart. His birth is shame- 
ful, and the brand burns into his heart and brain. He has 
been thrown abroad in the world, and is constrained by none 
of the bonds of nature or memory, of habit or association. f 
A hard, sceptical intellect, uninspired and unfed by the in- 
stincts of the heart, can easily enough reason away the con- 
sciousness of obligations the most sacred. Edmund's thought 
is " active as a virulent acid, eating its rapid way through all 
the tissues of human sentiment." $ His mind is destitute of 
dread of the Divine Nemesis. Like Iago, like Richard III., 
he finds the regulating force of the universe in the ego — in 

* Lectures on Dramatic Art, translated by J. Black, p. 412. 

f Gloucester (i. 1) says of Edmund, " He hath been out nine years, an 
away he shall again." 

$ This and the quotation next following will be remembered by read 
of Romola ; they occur in that memorable chapter entitled "Tito's 
lemma." 

c 



34 



KING LEAR. 



the individual will. But that terror of the unseen which Ed- 
mund scorned as so much superstition is "the initial recogni- 
tion of a moral law restraining desire, and checks the hard 
bold scrutiny of imperfect thought into obligations which can 
never be proved to have any sanctity in the absence of feel- 
ing." We can, therefore, in some degree account for Ed- 
mund's bold egoism and inhumanity. What obligation should 
a child feel to the man who, for a moment's selfish pleasure, 
had degraded and stained his entire life? In like manner, 
Gloucester's sufferings do not appear to us inexplicably mys- 
terious. 

"The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices 

Make instruments to plague us ; 

The dark and vicious place where thee he got 

Cost him his eyes." 

But having gone to the end of our tether, and explained 
all that is explicable, we are met by enigmas which will not 
be explained. We were perhaps somewhat too ready to 

"Take upon us the mystery of things 
As if we were God's spies." * 

Now we are baffled, and bow the head in silence. Is it in- 
deed the stars that govern our condition? Upon what theory 
shall we account for the sisterhood of a Goneril and a Cor- 
delia? And why is it that Gloucester, whose suffering is the 
retribution for past misdeeds, should be restored to spiritual 
calm and light, and should pass away in a rapture of mingled 

gladness and grief— 

" His flaw'd heart, 
Alack ! too weak the conflict to support ! 
'Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief, 
Burst smilingly " — 

e Lear, a man more sinned against than sinning, should 

^bbed of the comfort of Cordelia's love, should be 

bed to the last moment upon " the rack of this tough 






* Words of Lear (v. 3). 



INTR OD UC TION. 



35 



world," and should expire in the climax of a paroxysm of 
unproductive anguish? 

Shakspere does not attempt to answer these questions. 
The impression which the facts themselves produce, their 
influence to "free, arouse, dilate," seems to Shakspere more 
precious than any proposed explanation of the facts which 
cannot be verified. The heart is purified, not by dogma, but 
by pity and terror. But there are other questions which the 
play suggests. If it be the stars that govern our conditions, 
if that be indeed a possibility which Gloucester in his first 
shock and confusion of mind declares, 

" As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods ; 
They kill us for their sport," 

if, measured by material standards, the innocent and the 
guilty perish by a like fate — what then ? Shall we yield our- 
selves to the lust for pleasure ? shall we organize our lives 
upon the principles of a studious and pitiless egoism ? 

To these questions the answer of Shakspere is clear and 
emphatic. Shall we stand upon Goneril's side, or upon that 
of Cordelia ? Shall we join Edgar, or join the traitor ? Shak- 
spere opposes the presence and the influence of evil, not by 
any transcendental denial of evil, but by the presence of hu- 
man virtue, fidelity, and self-sacrificial love. In no play is 
there a clearer, an intenser manifestation of loyal manhood, 
of strong and tender womanhood. The devotion of Kent to 
his master is a passionate, unsubduable devotion, which 
might choose for its watchword the saying of Goethe, "I love 
you; what is that to you?" Edgar's nobility of nature is not 
disguised by the beggar's rags; he is the skilful resister of 
evil, the champion of right to the utterance. And if Goneril 
and Regan alone would leave the world unintelligible and 
desperate, there is 

" One daughter 

Who redeems Nature from the general curse 

Which twain have brought her to." 



36 



KING LEAR. 



We feel throughout the play that evil is abnormal; a curse 
which brings clown destruction upon itself; that it is without 
any long career ; that evil-doer is at variance with evil-doer. 
But good is normal; for it the career is long; and "all hon- 
est and good men are disposed to befriend honest and good 
men as such." * 



[From Mr. F. J. FurnivalV s Introduction to the Play.\~\ 
" This play resembles a stormy night. The first scene is 
like a wild sunset, grand and awful, with gusts of wind and 
mutterings of thunder, presaging the coming storm. Then 
comes a furious tempest of crime and madness, through 
which we see dimly the monstrous and unnatural forms of 
Goneril and Regan, Cornwall and Edmund, and hear ever 
and anon the wild laugh of the Fool, the mad howls of Lear, 
and the low moan- of the blind Gloster; while afar off a ray 
of moonlight breaks through the clouds, and throws its silvery 
radiance on the queenly figure of Cordelia, standing calm 
and peaceful in the storm, like an angel of truth and purity 
amid the raging strife of a sinful and blood-stained world. 
At the last, one great thunder-clap of death : the tempest 
ceases, and in the grey light of a cloudy dawn we see the 
corpses lying stiff and stark, the innocent and the guilty alike 
whelmed in the blind rage of fate" (Florence O'Brien).! 
Lear is especially the play of the breach of family ties; the 

* Butler, Analogy, Part i. chap. iii. 

t The Leopold Shakspere (London, 1877), p. lxxviii fol. 

I This passage was written by one who had never heard of Coleridge's 
comments on Shakspere, and had never seen his words, which I had long 
forgotten too : " In the Shaksperian drama there is a vitality which grows 
and evolves itself from within, a key-note which guides and controls the 
harmonies throughout. What is Lear? It is storm and tempest — the 
thunder at first grumbling in the far horizon, then gathering around us, 
and at length bursting in fury over our heads — succeeded by a breaking 
of the clouds for a while, a last flash of lightning, the closing-in of night, 
and the single hope of darkness" {Lit. Rem. ii. 104). 



INTR OD UC TION. 3 7 

play of horrors, unnatural cruelty to fathers, brothers, sisters, 
by those who should have loved them dearest. Not content 
with unsexing one woman, as in Macbeth, Shakspere has in 
Lear unsexed two. Not content with making Lear's daugh- 
ters treat him with cruel ingratitude, Shakspere has also 
made Edmund plot against his brother's and father's lives. 
Lear is a race-play, .too. It shows the Keltic passion, mis- 
judgment, and superstition, as in Glendower of 1 Henry LV., 
in Macbeth, and Cymbeline. Goneril and Regan are like 
the ghoul-like hags of the French Revolution. A few links 
with Othello may be named. Desdemona and her love for 
her father being subordinate to that for her husband, are the 
same as Cordelia's. Othello, at the end of the play, has seen 
the day that with "this good sword" he 'd have made his way 
through twenty times their stop; and Lear, too, at the end 
of this play, has seen the day that with his "good falchion" 
he would have made them skip.* With Macbeth we may 
compare the witches, the Keltic king, the ingratitude of Mac- 
beth to Duncan, as of Lear's daughters to him; while the ter- 
rible fierceness of Lady Macbeth is but the preparation for 
the more fiend-like Goneril and Regan. Under All 's Well 
we have already noted the likeness of the king's " sunshine 
and hail at once" to Cordelia's "sunshine and rain at once," 
her smiles and. tears. Lear, as first presented to us, is so 
self-indulgent and unrestrained, has been so fooled to the top 
of his bent, is so terribly unjust, not only to Cordelia, but to 
Kent, that one feels hardly any punishment can be too great 
for him. The motive that he puts to draw forth the desired 
expression of affection from Cordelia, " Do profess love to 
get a big reward," is such that no girl with true love for a 
father could leave unrepudiated ;t an d when his proposal 

* Compare Shallow in Merry Wives, ii. 1. 219-221, "I have seen the 
time, with my long sword, I would have made you four tall fellows skip 
like rats." 

f I can 't help thinking that if Lear had asked the question as One 



38 



KING LEAR. 



gets the answer it deserves, he meets his daughter's noble- 
ness by curses and revenge. Stripped by his own act of his 
own authority,* his Fool t with bitter sarcasms teaches him 
what a fool he 's been. And few can regret that he was made 
to feel a bite even sharper than a serpent's tooth. Still one 
is glad to see that he was early struggling against his own 
first wild passion, and that he would blame his own jealous 
curiosity before seeing GoneriPs purpose of unkindness. One 
sympathizes with his prayer to heaven to keep him in temper 
— "he would not be mad" — with his acquirement of some 
self-control, when excusing the hot duke's insolence by his 
illness. One sees, though, how he still measures love by the 
allowances of knights it will give him ; and it is not till 
driven out to the mercy of the winds and storm, till he knows 
that he is but a " poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man," 
till he can think of the poor naked wretches of whom he has 
before taken too little care, that one pities the sufferer for 
the consequences of his own folly. When he recovers from 
his madness and has come to the knowledge of himself, has 
found, smelled out those flatterers who 'd destroy him, then is 
he more truly " every inch a king," though cut to the brains, 
than ever he was before. The pathos of his recognition of 
Cordelia, his submission to her and seeking her blessing, his 

asked it, free from selfishness of heart, "Lovest thou me more than these?'''' 
the answer would not have been unlike Peter's — " Thou knowest that I 
love thee" (E. H. Hickey). 

* The folly of parents giving up their property to their children was 
often dwelt on by early English writers. It is so by Robert of Brunne : 
see the tale he tells about it in my edition of his Handlyng Synue (written 
A.D. 1303), pp. 37-9^ 

t Note the growth in depth and tenderness of Shakspere's fools as he 
advances from his First Period. Mr. Grant White says, in The Galaxy, 
January, 1877, p. 72: "In King Lear the Fool rises into heroic propor- 
tions, and becomes a sort of conscience, or second thought, to Lear. 
Compared even with Touchstone, he is very much more elevated, and 
shows not less than Hamlet, or than Lear himself, the grand develop- 
ment of Shakespeare's mind at this period of maturity." 



1NTR ODUC TION. 3 g 

lamentation over her corpse, are exceeded by nothing in 
Shakspere. Professor Spalding dwells on the last scene as 
an instance of how Shakspere got his most intense effects 
by no grand situation, as Massinger did, as Shakspere him- 
self did in earlier time, but out of the simplest materials. 
Spalding says, "The horrors which have gathered so thickly 
throughout the last act are carefully removed to the back- 
ground, but free room is left for the sorrowful group on which 
every eye is turned. The situation is simple in the extreme; 
but how tragically moving are the internal convulsions, for 
the representation of which the poet has worthily husbanded 
his force ! Lear enters with frantic cries, bearing the body 
of his dead daughter in his arms; he alternates between 
agitating doubts and wishful unbelief of her death, and pite- 
ously experiments on the lifeless corpse; he bends over her 
with the dotage of an old man's affection, and calls to mind 
the soft lowness of her voice, till he fancies he can hear its 
murmurs. Then succeeds the dreadful torpor of despairing 
insanity, during which he receives the most cruel tidings with 
apathy, or replies to them with wild incoherence; and the 
heart flows forth at the close with its last burst of love only 
to break in the vehemence of its emotion, commencing with 
the tenderness of regret, swelling into choking grief, and at 
last, when the eye catches the tokens of mortality in the dead, 
snapping the chords of life in an agonized horror." Cordelia 
is as the sun above the deeps of hell shown in Goneril and 
Regan. One can hardly help wishing that Shakspere had 
followed the old story told by Layamon and other repeaters 
of Geoffrey of Monmouth, and made Cordelia set her father 
on the throne again, and reign after him for a while in peace. 
But the tragedian, the preacher of Shakspere's Third-Period 
lesson,* did wisely for his art and meaning in letting the 
daughter and father lie in one grave. 

* See our ed. of As You Like It, p. 25, foot-note. — Ed. 




if jiiiiiiiin 



KING LEAR. 





DRAMA TIS PERSONjE. 

Lear, king of Britain. 

King of France. 

Duke of Burgundy. 

Duke of Cornwall. 

Duke of Albany. 

Earl of Kent. 

Earl of Gloster. 

Edgar, son to Gloster. 

Edmund, bastard son to Gloster. 

Curan, a courtier. 

Oswald, steward to Goneril. 

Old Man, tenant to Gloster. 

Doctor. 

Fool. 

A Captain employed by Edmund. 

Gentleman attendant on Cordelia. 

A Herald. 

Servants to Cornwall. 

Goneril, \ 

Regan, > daughters to Lear. 

Cordelia, ) 

Knights of Lear's train, Captains, Mes- 
sengers, Soldiers, and Attendants. t\ 



Scene : Britain. 





m 




[scene IV.] 



ACT I. 

Scene I. King Lear's Palace. 
Enter Kent, Gloster, and Edmund. 
Kent. I thought the king had more affected the Duke of 
Albany than Cornwall. 

Gloster. It did always seem so to us : but now, in the di- 
vision of the kingdom, it appears not which of the dukes he 



44 KING LEAR. 

values most ; for qualities are so weighed, that curiosity in 
neither can make choice of either's moiety. 

Kent. Is not this your son, my lord ? 

Gloster. His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge ; I have 
so often blushed to acknowledge him, that now I am brazed 
to 't. Do you smell a fault ? 10 

Kent. I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it being 
so proper. 

Gloster. But I have a son, sir, by order of law, some year 
elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account ; though 
this knave came something saucily into the world before he 
was sent for, yet was his mother fair, and the whoreson must 
be acknowledged. — Do you know this noble gentleman, Ed- 
mund ? 

Edmund. No, my lord. 

Gloster. My lord of Kent. Remember him hereafter as 
my honourable friend. 21 

Edmund. My services to your lordship. 

Kent. I must love you, and sue to know you better. 

Edmund. Sir, I shall study deserving. 

Gloster. He hath been out nine years, and away he shall 
again. — The king is coining. \Sennet within. 

Enter one bearing a coronet, King Lear, Cornwall, Al- 
bany, Goneril, Regan, Cordelia, and Attendants. 

Lear. Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloster. 

Gloster. I shall, my liege. [Exeunt Gloster and Edmund. 

Lear. Meantime we shall express our darker purpose. — 
Give me the map there. — Know that we have divided 30 
In three our kingdom ; and 't is our fast intent 
To shake all cares and business from our age, 
Conferring them on younger strengths, while we 
Unburthen'd crawl toward death. — Our son of Cornwall, — 
And you, our no less loving son of Albany, 
We have this hour a constant will to publish 



ACT I. SCENE I. 



45 



Our daughters' several dowers, that future strife 

May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy, 

Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love, 

Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn, 40 

And here are to be answer'd. — Tell me, my daughters, 

Since now we will divest us both of rule, 

Interest of territory, cares of state, 

Which of you shall we say doth love us most ? 

That we our largest bounty may extend 

Where nature doth with merit challenge. — Goneril, 

Our eldest-born, speak first. 

Goneril. Sir, I love you more than word can wield the 
matter; 
Dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty) 
Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare ; 50 

No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour; 
As much as child e'er lov'd, or father found ; 
A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable; 
Beyond all manner of so much I love you. 

Cordelia. [Aside] What shall Cordelia speak? Love, and 
be silent. 

Lear. Of all these bounds, even from this line to this, 
With shadowy forests and with champaigns rich'd, 
With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads, 
We make thee lady. To thine and Albany's issue 
Be this perpetual. — What says our second daughter, 60 

Our dearest Regan, wife of Cornwall ? 

Regan. I am made of that self metal as my sister, 
And prize me at her worth. In my true heart 
I find she names my very deed of love ; 
Only she comes too short : that I profess 
Myself an enemy to all other joys 
Which the most precious square of sense professes, 
And find I am alone felicitate 
In your dear highness' love. 



4 6 



KING LEAR. 



Cordelia. {Aside'] Then poor Cordelia ! 

And yet not so, since I am sure my love 's 
More ponderous than my tongue. 

Lear. To thee and thine hereditary ever 
Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom, 
No less in space, validity, and pleasure, 
Than that conferr'd on Goneril. — Now, our jov, 
Although our last and least, to whose young love 
The vines of France and milk of Burgundy 
Strive to be interess'd, what can you say to draw 
A third more opulent than your sisters ? Speak. 

Cordelia. Nothing, my lord. 

Lear. Nothing? 

Cordelia. Nothing. 

Lear. Nothing will come of nothing; speak again. 

Cordelia. Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave 
My heart into my mouth. I love your majesty 
According to my bond • no more nor less. 

Lear. How, how, Cordelia ! mend your speech a little, 
Lest it may mar your fortunes. 

Cordelia. Good my lord, 

You have begot me, bred me, lov'd me • I 
Return those duties back as are right fit, 
Obey you, love you, and most honour you. 
Why have my sisters husbands, if they say 
They love you all ? Haply, when I shall wed, 
That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry 
Half my love with him, half my care and duty. 
Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters, 
To love my father all. 

Lear. But goes thy heart with this? 

Cordelia. Ay, my good lord. 

Lear. So young, and so untender? 

Cordelia. So young, my lord, and true. 

Lear. Let it be so ; thy truth then be thy dower : 



80 



90 



ACT I. SCENE /. 47 

For, by the sacred radiance of the sun, 

The mysteries of Hecate and the night, 

By all the operation of the orbs 

From whom we do exist and cease to be, 

Here I disclaim all my paternal care, 

Propinquity and property of blood, 

And as a stranger to my heart and me 

Hold thee from this for ever. The barbarous Scythian, 

Or he that makes his generation messes no 

To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom 

Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and reliev'd, 

As thou my sometime daughter. 

Kent. Good my liege, — 

Lear. Peace, Kent ! 
Come not between the dragon and his wrath. 
I lov'd her most, and thought to set my rest 
On her kind nursery. — Hence, and avoid my sight ! — 
So be my grave my peace, as here I give 
Her father's heart from her ! — Call France. Who stirs ? 
Call Burgundy. — Cornwall and Albany, 120 

With my two daughters' dowers digest the third. 
Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her. 
I do invest you jointly with my power, 
Pre-eminence, and all the large effects 
That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly course, 
W 7 ith reservation of an hundred knights, 
By you to be sustain'd, shall our abode 
Make with you by due turn. Only we shall retain 
The name and all the addition to a king; 
The sway, revenue, execution of the rest, 130 

Beloved sons, be yours: which to confirm, 
This coronet part between you. 

Kent. Royal Lear, 

Whom I have ever honour'd as my king, 
Lov'd as my father, as my master follow'd, 
As my great patron thought on in my prayers, — 



4 8 KING LEAR. 

Lear. The bow is bent and drawn; make from the shaft. 

Kent. Let it fall rather, though the fork invade 
The region of my heart! Be Kent unmannerly 
When Lear is mad. What wouldst thou do, old man? 
Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak 140 

When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour's 

bound, 
When majesty falls to folly. Reserve thy state, 
And in thy best consideration check 
This hideous rashness. Answer my life my judgment, 
Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least; 
Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sound 
Reverbs no hollowness. 

Lear. Kent, on thy life, no more ! 

Kent. My life I never held but as a pawn 
To wage against thy enemies, nor fear to lose it, 
Thy safety being the motive. 

Lear. Out of my sight ! i S o 

Kent. See better, Lear, and let me still remain 
The true blank of thine eye. 

Lear. Now, by Apollo, — 

Kent. Now, by Apollo, king, 

Thou swear'st thy gods in vain. 

Lear. O, vassal ! miscreant ! 

[Laying his hand o?z his sword. 

~ 77 r Dear sir, forbear. 

Cornwall. ) 

Kent. Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow 
Upon the foul disease. Revoke thy gift; 
Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat, 
I '11 tell thee thou dost evil. 

Lear. Hear me, recreant! 

On .thine allegiance, hear me ! 160 

That thou hast sought to make us break our vow, 
Which we durst never yet, and with strain 'd pride 



ACT I. SCENE L 49 

To come betwixt our sentence and our power, 

Which nor our nature nor our place can bear, 

Our potency made good, take thy reward. 

Five days we do allot thee, for provision 

To shield thee from diseases of the world, 

And on the sixth to turn thy hated back 

Upon our kingdom; if on the tenth day following 

Thy banish'd trunk be found in our dominions, 170 

The moment is thy death. Away ! By Jupiter, 

This shall not be revok'd. 

Kent. Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou wilt appear, 
Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here. — 
The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid, . 
That justly think'st and hast most rightly said ! — 
And your large speeches may your deeds approve, 
That good effects may spring from words of love. — 
Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu; i 79 

He '11 shape his old course in a country new. \Exit. 

Flourish. Re-enter Gloster, with France, Burgundy, and 

Attendants. 

Gloster. Here 's France and Burgundy, my noble lord. 

Lear. My lord of Burgundy, 
We first address toward you, who with this king 
Hath rivalPd for our daughter; what, in the least, 
Will you require in present dower with her, 
Or cease your quest of love ? 

Burgimdy. Most royal majesty, 

I crave no more than hath your highness offer'd, 
Nor will you tender less. 

Lear. Right noble Burgundy, 

When she was dear to us, we did hold her so ; 
But now her price is fall'n. Sir, there she stands. r 9 o 

If aught within that little-seeming substance, 
Or all of it, with our displeasure piec'd, 

D 



[jo KING LEAR. 

And nothing more, may fitly like your grace, 
She 's there, and she is yours. 

Burgundy. I know no answer. 

Lear. Will you, with those infirmities she owes, 
Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate, 
Dower'd with our curse and stranger'd with our oath, 
Take her, or leave her ? 

Burgundy. Pardon me, royal sir; 

Election makes not up on such conditions. 

Lear. Then leave her, sir; for, by the power that made 
me, 200 

I tell you all her wealth. — [To France] For you, great king, 
I would not from your love make such a stray, 
To match you where I hate ; therefore beseech you 
To avert your liking a more worthier way 
Than on a wretch whom nature is asham'd 
Almost to acknowledge hers. 

France. This is most strange, 

That she, who even but now was your best object, 
The argument of your praise, balm of your age, 
The best, the dearest, should in this trice of time 
Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle 210 

So many folds of favour. Sure, her offence 
Must be of such unnatural degree 
That monsters it, or your fore-vouch'd affection 
Fall'n into taint; which to believe of her, 
Must be a faith that reason without miracle 
Should never plant in me. 

Cordelia. I yet beseech your majesty, — 

If for I want that glib and oily art, 
To speak and purpose not, since what I well intend 
I '11 do 't before I speak, — that you make known 
It is no vicious blot, nor other foulness, 220 

No unchaste action, or dishonour'd step, 
That hath depriv'd me of your grace and favour; 



ACT I. SCENE I. 



51 



But even for want of that for which I am richer, 
A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue 
That I am glad I have not, though not to have it 
Hath lost me in your liking. 

Lear. Better thou 

Hadst not been born than not to have pleas'd me better. 

France. Is it but this? a tardiness in nature, 
Which often leaves the history unspoke 
That it intends to do ?— My lord of Burgundy, 230 

What say you to the lady? Love 's not love 
When it is mingled with regards that stands 
Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her? 
She is herself a dowry. 

Burgundy. Royal Lear, 

Give but that portion which yourself propos'd, 
And here I take Cordelia by the hand, 
Duchess of Burgundy. 

Lear. Nothing. I have sworn; I am firm. 

Burgundy. I am sorry then you have so lost a father 
That you must lose a husband. 

Cordelia. Peace be with Burgundy ! 

Since that respects of fortune are his love, 241 

I shall not be his wife. 

France. Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich being poor, 
Most choice forsaken, and most lov'd despis'd, 
Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon ; 
Be it lawful I take up what 's cast away. 
Gods, gods ! 't is strange that from their cold'st neglect 
My love should kindle to inflam'd respect. — 
Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance, 
Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France. 250 

Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy 
Can buy this unpriz'd precious maid of me. — 
Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind; 
Thou losest here, a better where to find. 



52 



KING LEAR. 



Lear. Thou hast her, France; let her be thine, for we 
Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see 
That face of hers again. — Therefore be gone 
Without our grace, our love, our benison. — 
Come, noble Burgundy. 

[Flourish. Exeunt all but France, Goneril, Regan, 
and Cordelia. 

France. Bid farewell to your sisters. 260 

Cordelia. Ye jewels of our father, with wash'd eyes 
Cordelia leaves you. I know you what you are, 
And, like a sister, am most loath to call 
Your faults as they are nam'd. Love well our father. 
To your professed bosoms I commit him; 
But yet, alas ! stood I within his grace, 
I would prefer him to a better place. 
So farewell to you both. 

Regan. Prescribe not us our duty. 

Goneril. Let your study 

Be to content your lord, who hath receiv'd you 270 

At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted, 
And well are worth the want that you have wanted. 

Cordelia. Time shall unfold what plighted cunning hides; 
Who cover faults, at last shame them derides. 
Well may you prosper ! 

France. Come, my fair Cordelia. 

[Fxeunt France and Cordelia. 

Goneril. Sister, it is not little I have to say of what most 
nearly appertains to us both. I think our father will hence 
to-night. 

Regan. That 's most certain, and with you; next month 
with us. 280 

Goneril. You see how full of changes his age is; the ob- 
servation we have made of it hath not been little. He always 
loved our sister most; and with what poor judgment he hath 
now cast her off appears too grossly. 



ACT I. SCENE II. 53 

Rega?i. 'T is the infirmity of his age ; yet he hath ever but 
slenderly known himself. 

Goneril. The best and soundest of his time hath been but 
rash ; then must we look from his age to receive, not alone 
the imperfections of long-ingraffed condition, but therewithal 
the unruly waywardness that infirm and choleric years bring 
with them. 291 

Regan. Such unconstant starts are we like to have from 
him as this of Kent's banishment. 

Goneril. There is further compliment of leave-taking be- 
tween France and him. Pray you, let us hit together; if our 
father carry authority with such disposition as he bears, this 
last surrender of his will but offend us. 

Regan. We shall further think of it. 

Goneril. We must do something, and i' th' heat. [Exeunt. 

Scene II. The Earl of Gloster's Castle. ■ 
Enter Edmund, with a letter. 

Edmund. Thou, Nature, art my goddess ; to thy law 
My services are bound. Wherefore should I 
Stand in the plague of custom, and permit 
The curiosity of nations to deprive me, 
For that I am some twelve or fourteen moonshines 
Lag of a brother ? Why bastard ? wherefore base ? 
When my dimensions are as well compact, 
My mind as generous and my shape as true, 
As honest madam's issue ? Why brand they us 
With base ? with baseness ? bastardy ? base, base ? IO 

Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land. 
Our father's love is to the bastard Edmund 
As to the legitimate; fine word, — legitimate ! 
Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed 
And my invention thrive, Edmund the base 
Shall top the legitimate. I grow; I prosper: — 
Now, gods, stand up for bastards ! 



54 



r G LEAR. 



Enter Gloster. 



banish'd thus 



id Fi 



choler parted ! 



Gloster. Kent banish'd thus ! and trance 
And the king gone to-night ! subscrib'd his power ! 
Confin'd to exhibition ! All this done 
Upon the gad ! — Edmund, how now ! what news ? 

Edmund. So please your lordship, none. 

[Putting up the letter. 

Gloster. Why so earnestly seek you to put up that letter ? 

Edmund. I know no news, my lord. 

Gloster. What paper were you reading? 

Edmund. Nothing, my lord. 

Gloster. No ? What needed then that terrible dispatch of 
it into your pocket? the quality of nothing hath not such 
need to hide itself. Let 's see; come, if it be nothing, I 
shall not need spectacles. 30 

Edmund. I beseech you, sir, pardon me : it is a letter from 
my brother, that I have not all o'er-read ; and for so much 
as I have perused, I find it not fit for your o'erlooking. 

Gloster. Give me the letter, sir. 

Edmund. I shall offend, either to detain or give. The 
contents, as in part I understand them, are to blame. 

Gloster. Let 's see, let 's see. 

Edmund. I hope, for my brother's justification, he wrote 
this but as an essay or taste of my virtue. 39 

Gloster. [Reads] ' This policy and reverence of age makes 
the world bitter to the best of our times ; keeps our fortunes 
from us till our oldness cannot relish them. I begin tofnd an 
idle and fond bondage in the oppressio?i of aged tyranny, who 
sways, not as it hath power, but as it is suffered. Come to me, 
that of this I may speak more. If our father would sleep till 
I wake him, you should enjoy half his revenue for ever, and 
live the beloved of your brother, Edgar.' 

Hum ! — Conspiracy ! — ' Sleep till I wake him, you should en- 
joy half his revenue] — My son Edgar ! Had he a hand to 






ACT I. SCENE II. 55 

write this ? a heart and brain to breed it in ? — When came 
this to you ? who brought it ? 51 

Edmund. It was not brought me, my lord ; there 's the cun- 
ning of it : I found it thrown in at the casement of my closet. 

Gloster. You know the character to be your brother's ? 

Edmund. If the matter were good, my lord, I durst swear 
it were his ; but, in respect of that, I would fain think it 
were not. 

Gloster. It is his. 

Edmund. It is his hand, my lord ; but I hope his heart is 
not in the contents. 60 

Gloster. Hath he never before sounded you in this 
business ? 

Edmund. Never, my lord ; but I have heard him oft main- 
tain it to be fit, that, sons at perfect age, and fathers de- 
clined, the father should be as ward to the son, and the son 
manage his revenue. 

Gloster. O villain, villain ! His very opinion in the let- 
ter ! Abhorred villain! Unnatural, detested, brutish villain! 
worse than brutish ! — Go, sirrah, seek him ; I '11 apprehend 
him. Abominable villain ! Where is he ? 70 

Edmund. I do not well know, my lord. If it shall please 
you to suspend your indignation against my brother till you 
can derive from him better testimony of his intent, you should 
run a certain course; where, if you violently proceed against 
him, mistaking his purpose, it would make a great gap in 
your own honour and shake in pieces the heart of his obedi- 
ence. I dare pawn down my life for him that he hath writ 
this to feel my affection to your honour, and to no other pre- 
tence of clanger. 

Gloster. Think you so ? 80 

Edmund. If your honour judge it meet, I will place you 
where you shall hear us confer of this, and by an auricular 
assurance have your satisfaction \ and that without any fur- 
ther delay than this very evening. 



56 



KING LEAR. 



Gloster. He cannot be such a monster — 

Edmund. Nor is not, sure. 

Gloster. To his father, that so tenderly and entirely loves 
him. Heaven and earth ! Edmund, seek him out: wind 
me into him, I pray you; frame the business after your own 
wisdom. I would unstate myself, to be in a due resolu- 
tion. 91 

Edmund. I will seek him, sir, presently, convey the busi- 
ness as I shall find means, and acquaint you with all. 

Gloster. These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend 
no good to us. Though the wisdom of nature can reason it 
thus and thus, yet nature finds itself scourged by the sequent 
effects: love cools, friendship falls off, brothers divide; in 
cities, mutinies ; in countries, discord ; in palaces, treason ; 
and the bond cracked 'twixt son and father. This villain of 
mine comes under the prediction ; there 's son against father : 
the king falls from bias of nature; there 's father against 
child. We have seen the best of our time; machinations, 
hollowness, treachery, and all ruinous disorders follow us 
disquietly to our graves. Find out this villain, Edmund; it 
shall lose thee nothing; do it carefully. And the noble and 
true-hearted Kent banished! his offence, honesty! ; T is 
strange. [Exit. 

Edmund. This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, 
when we are sick in fortune — often the surfeit of our own 
behaviour— we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the 
moon, and the stars: as if we were villains on necessity; 
fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treach- 
ers, by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adul- 
terers, by an enforced obedience of planetary influence; and 
all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on. Edgar — 



Enter Edgar. 

and pat he comes like the catastrophe of the old comedy. 
My cue is villanous melancholy, with a sigh like Tom o' 



ACT I. SCENE II. 



57 



Bedlam. O, these eclipses do portend these divisions ! fa, 
sol, la, mi. 

Edgar. How now, brother Edmund ! what serious contem- 
plation are you in? 121 

Edmund. I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read 
this other day, what should follow these eclipses. 

Edgar. Do you busy yourself with that ? 

Edmund. I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed 
unhappily : as of unnaturalness between the child and the 
parent; death, dearth, dissolutions of ancient amities; divi- 
sions in state, menaces and maledictions against king and 
nobles ; needless diffidences, banishment of friends, dissipa- 
tion of cohorts, nuptial breaches, and I know not what. 130 

Edgar. How long have you been a sectary astronomical ? 

Edmund. Come, come ; when saw you my father last ? 

Edgar. The night gone by. 

Edmund. Spake you with him ? 

Edgar. Ay, two hours together. 

Edmund. Parted you in good terms ? Found you no dis- 
pleasure in him by word nor countenance ? 

Edgar. None at all. 

Edmimd. Bethink yourself wherein you may have offended 
him ; and at my entreaty forbear his presence till some little 
time hath qualified the heat of his displeasure, which at this 
instant so rageth in him that with the mischief of your per- 
son it would scarcely allay. hz 

Edgar. Some villain hath done me wrong. 

Edmimd. That 's my fear. I pray you, have a continent 
forbearance till the speed of his rage goes slower; and, as I 
say, retire with me to my lodging, from whence I will fitly 
bring you to hear my lord speak. Pray ye, go ; there 's my 
key : if you do stir abroad, go armed. 

Edgar. Armed, brother ! 150 

Edmund. Brother, I advise you to the best; go armed: I 
am no honest man if there be any good meaning toward 



5 8 KING LEAR. 

you. I have told you what I have seen and heard; but 
faintly, nothing like the image and horror of it: pray you, 
away. 

Edgar. Shall I hear from you anon ? 

Edmund. I do serve you in this business. — 

[Exit Edgar. 
A credulous father, and a brother noble, 
Whose nature is so far from doing harms 
That he suspects none ; on whose foolish honesty 160 

My practices ride easy. I see the business. 
Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit; 
All with me 's meet that I can fashion fit. [Exit. 

Scene III. The Duke of Albany 's Palace. 
Enter Goneril and Oswald, her steward. 

Goneril. Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding 
of his fool ? 

Oswald. Ay, madam. 

Goneril. By day and night he wrongs me ; every hour 
He flashes into one gross crime or other, 
That sets us all at odds. I '11 not endure it. 
His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us 
On everv trifle. When he returns from hunting", 
I will not speak with him ; say I am sick. 
If you come slack of former services, IO 

You shall do well ; the fault of it I '11 answer. 

Oswald. He 's coming, madam ; I hear him. 

[Horns within. 

Goneril. Put on what weary negligence you please, 
You and your fellows ; I 'd have it come to question. 
If he distaste it, let him to my sister, 
Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one, 
Not to be over-rul'd. Idle old man, 
That still would manage those authorities 



ACT I. SCENE IV. 59 

That he hath given away ! Now, by my life, 
Old fools are babes again, and must be us'd 20 

With checks as flatteries, when they are seen abus'd. 
Remember what I have said. 

Oswald. Well, madam. 

Goneril. And let his knights have colder looks among you. 
What grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows so. 
I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall, 
That I may speak. I '11 write straight to my sister, 
To hold my very course. Prepare for dinner. [Exeunt. 

Scene IV. A Hall in the Same. 
Enter Kent, disguised. 

Kent. If but as well I other accents borrow, 
That can my speech diffuse, my good intent 
May carry through itself to that full issue 
For which I raz'd my likeness. Now, banish'd Kent, 
If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemn'd, 
So may it come, thy master, whom thou lov'st, 
Shall find thee full of labours. 

Horns within. Enter Lear, Knights, and Attendants. 

Lear. Let me not stay a'jot for dinner ; go get it ready. — 
[Exit an Attendant.] How now! what art thou? 

Kent. A man, sir. 10 

Lear. What dost thou profess ? what wouldst thou with us ? 

Kent. I do profess to be no less than I seem ; to serve 
him truly that will put me in trust; to love him that is hon- 
est; to converse with him that is wise and says little; to 
fear judgment; to fight when I cannot choose; and to eat 
no fish. 

Lear. What art thou ? 

Kent. A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the 
king. 



60 KING LEAR. 

- 

Lear. If thou be'st as poor for a subject as he is for a 
king, thou art poor enough. What wouldst thou ? 21 

Kent. Service. 

Lear. Who wouldst thou serve ? 

Ke?it. You. 

Lear. Dost thou know me, fellow ? 

Ke?it. No, sir; but you have that in your countenance 
which I would fain call master. 

Lear. What 's that ? 

Kent. Authority. 

Lear. What services canst thou do ? 30 

Ke?tt. I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a curious 
tale in telling it, and deliver a plain message bluntly; that 
which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in, and the 
best of me is diligence. 

Lear. How old art thou ? 

Kent. Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing, nor 
so old to dote on her for any thing; I have years on my 
back forty-eight. 38 

Lear. Follow me; thou shalt serve me : if I like thee no 
worse after dinner, I will not part from thee yet. — Dinner, 
ho, dinner ! Where 's my knave ? my fool ?— Go you, and call 
my fool hither. — [Exit an Attendant. 

Enter Oswald. 

You, you, sirrah, where 's my daughter ? 

Oswald. So please you, — [Exit. 

Lear. What says the fellow there ? Call the clotpoll 
back. — [Exit a Knight.'] Where 's my fool, ho ? I think the 
world 's asleep. — [Re-enter Knight ?[ How now ! where 's that 
mongrel ? 

Knight. He says, my lord, your daughter is not well. 

Lear. Why came not the slave back to me when I called 
him ? 51 

Knight. Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner, he 
would not. 



ACT I. SCENE IV. 6 1 

Lear. He would not ! 

Knight. My lord, I know not what the matter is ; but, to 
my judgment, your highness is not entertained with that 
ceremonious affection as you were wont : there 's a great 
abatement of kindness appears as well in the general de- 
pendants as in the duke himself also and your daughter. 

Lear. Ha ! sayest thou so ? 60 

Knight. I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, if I be mis- 
taken ; for my duty cannot be silent when I think your high- 
ness wronged. 

Lear. Thou but rememberest me of mine own conception. 
I have perceived a most faint neglect of late ; which I have 
rather blamed as mine own jealous curiosity than as a very 
pretence and purpose of unkindness. I will look further 
into 't. But where 's my fool ? I have not seen him this 
two days. 

Knight. Since my young lady's going into France, sir, the 
fool hath much pined away. 71 

Lear. No more of that; I have noted it well. — Go you, 
and tell my daughter I would speak with hex.— [Exit an At- 
tendant^ Go you, call hither my fool. — 

[Exit an Attendant. 

Re-enter Oswald. 

O, you sir, you, come you hither, sir. Who am I, sir ? 

Oswald. My lady's father. 

Lear. My lady's father ! my lord's knave. You whoreson 
dog ! you slave ! you cur ! 

Oswald. I am none of these, my lord; I beseech your 
pardon. so 

Lear. Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal ? 

[Striking him. 

Oswald. I '11 not be strucken, my lord. 

Kent. Nor tripped neither, you base foot-ball player. 

[Tripping up his heels. 



62 KING LEAR. 

Lear. I thank thee, fellow ; thou servest me, and I '11 love 
thee. 

Kent. Come, sir, arise, away ! I '11 teach you differences ; 
away, away ! If you will measure your lubber's length again, 
tarry : but away ! go to ; have you wisdom ? so. 

[Pushes Oswald out. 

Lear. Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee. There 's 
earnest of thy service. 9 o 

Enter Fool. 

Fool. Let me hire him too. — Here 's my coxcomb. 

Lear. How now, my pretty knave ! how dost .thou? 

Fool. Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb. 

Kent. Why, fool? 

Fool. Why ? for taking one's part that 's out of favour. 
Nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits, thou 'It catch 
cold shortly. There, take my coxcomb. Why, this fellow 
has banished two on 's daughters, and did the third a bless- 
ing against his will; if thou follow him, thou must needs 
wear my coxcomb. — How now, nuncle ! Would I had two 
coxcombs and two daughters ! ioi 

Lear. Why, my boy ? 

Fool. If I gave them all my living, I 'd keep my coxcombs 
myself. There 's mine ; beg another of thy daughters. 

Lear. Take heed, sirrah; the whip. 

Fool. Truth 's a dog must to kennel ; he must be whipped 
out, when Lady the brach may stand by the fire and stink. 

Lear. A pestilent gall to me ! 

Fool. Sirrah, I '11 teach thee a speech. 

Lear. Do. no 

Fool. Mark it, nuncle : 

Have more than thou showest, 
Speak less than thou knowest, 
Lend less than thou owest, 
Ride more than thou goest, 






ACT I. SCENE IV. 



^ 



Learn more than thou trOwest, 
Set less than thou throwest; 
And thou shalt have more 
Than two tens to a score. 
Kent. This is nothing, fool. I2 o 

Fool. Then 'tis like the breath of an unfee'd lawyer; you 
gave me nothing for 't. — Can you make no use of nothing, 
nuncle ? 

Lear. Why, no, boy; nothing can be made out of noth- 
ing. 

Fool. [To Kent] Prithee, tell him, so much the rent of his 
land comes to; he will not believe a fool. 
Lear. A bitter fool ! 

Fool. Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a 
bitter fool and a sweet fool ? 130 

Lear. No, lad ; teach me. 
Fool. That lord that counsell'd thee 

To give away thy land, 
Come place him here by me, 

Do thou for him stand : 
The sweet and bitter fool 
Will presently appear ; 
The one in motley here, 
The other found out there. 
Lear. Dost thou call me fool, boy? 140 

Fool. All thy other titles thou hast given away; that thou 
wast born with. 

Kent. This is not altogether fool, my lord. 
Fool. No, faith, lords and great men will not let me. If I 
had a monopoly out, they would have part on 't; and ladies 
too, they will not let me have all the fool to myself; they '11 
be snatching. Nuncle, give me an egg, and I '11 give thee 
two crowns. 

Lear. What two crowns shall they be? i 49 

Fool. Why, after I have cut the egg i' the middle and eat 



6 4 



KING LEAR. 



up the meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou clovest 
thy crown i' the middle, and gav'st away both parts, thou 
borest thy ass on thy back o'er the dirt ; thou hadst little 
wit in thy bald crown, when thou gav'st thy golden one 
away. If I speak like myself in this, let him be whipped that 
first finds it so. 

[Sings] Fools had ne'er less grace in a year; 
For wise me?i are grown foppish, 
And know not how their wits to wear, 

Their manners are so apish. 160 

Lear. When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah ? 
Fool. I have used it, nuncle, e'er since thou madest thy 
daughters thy mothers : for when thou gav'st them the rod, 
and put'st down thine own breeches, 

[Sings] Then they for sudden joy did weep, 
And I for sorrow sung, 
That such a king should play bo-peep, 
And go the fools among. 
Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach thy fool 
to lie. I would fain learn to lie. 

Lear. An you lie, sirrah, we '11 have you whipped. 
Fool. I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are; 
they '11 have me whipped for speaking true, thou 'It have 
me whipped for lying, and sometimes I am whipped for 
holding my peace. I had rather be any kind o' thing than 
a fool : and yet I would not be thee, nuncle; thou hast pared 
thy wit o' both sides, and left nothing i' the middle. Here 
comes one o' the parings. 






Enter Goneril. 

Lear. How now, daughter ! what makes that frontlet on ? 
Methinks you are too much of late i' the frown. iSo 

Fool. Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need 
to care for her frowning; now thou art an O without a fig- 
ure. I am better than thou art now; I am a fool, thou 




ACT I. SCENE IV. 65 

art nothing. — [To Goneril] Yes, forsooth, I will hold my 
tongue; so your face bids me, though you say nothing. 
Mum, mum ; 

He that keeps nor crust nor crtim, 
Weary of all, shall want some. — 
That 's a shealed peascod. 

Goneril. Not only, sir, this your all-licens'd fool, 190 

But other of your insolent retinue 
Do hourly carp and quarrel, breaking forth 
In rank and not-to-be-endured riots. Sir, 
I had thought, by making this well known unto you, 
To have found a safe redress, but now grow fearful, 
By what yourself too late have spoke and done, 
That you protect this course, and put it on 
By your allowance; which if you should, the fault 
Would not scape censure, nor the redresses sleep, 
Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal, 2 co 

Might in their working do you that offence, 
Which else were shame, that then necessity 
Will call discreet proceeding. 

Fool. For, you know, nuncle, 

The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long, 
That it } s had it head bit off by it young. 
So out went the candle, and we were left darkling. 

Lear. Are you our daughter ? 

Goneril. Come, sir, 
I would you would make use of that good wisdom 210 

Whereof I know you are fraught, and put away 
These dispositions which of late transport you 
From what you rightly are. 

Fool. May not an ass know when the cart draws the 
horse ? Whoop, Jug ! I love thee. 

Lear. Does any here know me ? This is not Lear. 
Does Lear walk thus ? speak thus ? Where are his eyes ? 
Either his notion weakens, his discernings 

E 



66 KING LEAR. 

Are lethargied — Ha ! waking ? 't is not so. 

Who is it that can tell me who I am ? 220 

Fool. Lear's shadow. 

Lear. I would learn that; for, by the marks of sover- 
eignty, knowledge, and reason, I should be false persuaded 
I had daughters. 

Fool. Which they will make an obedient father. 

Lear. Your name, fair gentlewoman ? 

Goneril. This admiration, sir, is much o' the savour 
Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you 
To understand my purposes aright; 
As you are old and reverend, you should be wise. 
Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires; 
Men so disorder'd, so debosh'd and bold, 
That this our court, infected with their manners, 
Shows like a riotous inn : epicurism and lust 
Makes it more like a tavern or a brothel 
Than a grac'd palace. The shame itself doth speak 
For instant remedy. Be then desir'd 
By her, that else will take the thing she begs, 
A little to disquantity your train; 

And the remainder, that shall still depend, 240 

To be such men as may besort your age, 
Which know themselves and you. 

Lear. Darkness and devils ! — 

Saddle my horses ! call my train together I — 
Degenerate bastard ! I '11 not trouble thee. 
Yet have I left a daughter. 

Go7ieril. You strike my people, and your disorder'd rabble 
Make servants of their betters. 

Enter Albany. 

Lear. Woe, that too late repents. — O, sir, are you comer 
Is it your will? Speak, sir. — Prepare my horses. — 
Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend, 250 



ACT I. SCENE IV. 



67 



More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child 
Than the sea-monster ! 

Albany. Pray, sir, be patient. 

Lear. Detested kite ! thou liest ; 
My train are men of choice and rarest parts. 
That all particulars of duty know, 
And in the most exact regard support 
The worships of their name. — O most small fault, 
How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show ! 
Which, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of nature 
From the fix'd place, drew from my heart all love, 260 

And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear ! 
Beat at this gate, that let thy folly in, \_Striking his head. 

And thy dear judgment out!— Go, go, my people. 

Albany. My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant 
Of what hath mov'd you. 

Lear. It may be so, my lord. — 

Hear, Nature, hear; dear goddess, hear ! 
Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend 
To make this creature fruitful ; 
Into her womb convey sterility; 

Dry up in her the organs of increase, 270 

And from her derogate body never spring 
A babe to honour her ! If she must teem, 
Create her child of spleen, that it may live 
And be a thwart disnatur'd torment to her ! 
Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth, 
With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks, 
Turn all her mother's pains and benefits 
To laughter and contempt ; that she may feel 
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is 279 

To have a thankless child ! — Away, away ! \Exit 

Albany. Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this ? 

Goneril. Never afflict yourself to know the cause, 
But let his disposition have that scope 
That dotage gives it. 



68 KING LEAR. 

Re-enter Lear. 

Lear. What, fifty of my followers at a clap ! 
Within a fortnight ! 

Albany. What 's the matter, sir ? 

Lear. I '11 tell thee. — Life and death ! I am asham'd 
That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus; 
That these hot tears, which break from me perforce, 289 

Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon thee ! 
Th' untented woundings of a father's curse 
Pierce every sense about thee !— Old fond eyes, 
Beweep this cause again, I '11 pluck ye out, 
And cast you, with the waters that you lose, 
To temper clay. — Ha ! is it come to this ? 
Let it be so. I have another daughter, 
Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable. 
When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails 
She '11 flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find 
That I '11 resume the shape which thou dost think 300 

I have cast off for ever ; thou shalt, I warrant thee. 

\Exeimt Lear, Kent, and Attendants. 
Goneril. Do you mark that, my lord ? 
Albany. I cannot be so partial, Goneril, 
To the great love I bear you, — 

Goneril. Pray you, content. — What, Oswald, ho ! — 
You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master. 

Fool. Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry; take the fool with 
thee. — 

A fox, when one has caught her, 
And such a daughter, 310 

Should sure to the slaughter, 
If my cap would buy a halter. 
So the fool follows after. [Exit. 

Goneril. This man hath had good counsel ! A hundred 
knights ! 






ACT I. SCENE IV. 69 

'T is politic and safe to let him keep 

At point a hundred knights; yes, that, on every dream, 

Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike, 

He may enguard his dotage with their powers, 

And hold our lives in mercy. — Oswald, I say ! 319 

Albany. Well, you may fear too far. 

Goneril. Safer than trust too far. 

Let me still take away the harms I fear, 
Not fear still to be taken. I know his heart. 
What he hath utter'd I have writ my sister; 
If she sustain him and his hundred knights, 
When I have show'd the unfitness, — 

Re-enter Oswald. 

How now, Oswald ! 
What, have you writ that letter to my sister? 

Oswald. Ay, madam. 

Goneril. Take you some company, and away to horse; 
Inform her full of my particular fear, 

And thereto add such reasons of your own 330 

As may compact it more. Get you gone ; 
And hasten your return. — \_Exit Oswald^ No, no, my lord, 
This milky gentleness and course of yours 
Though I condemn not, yet, under pardon, 
You are much more at task for want of wisdom 
Than prais'd for harmful mildness. 

Alba?iy. How far your eyes may pierce I cannot tell; 
Striving to better, oft we mar what 's well. 

Goneril. Nay, then — 

Albany. Well, well ; the event. \Exeunt. 



7o 



KING LEAR. 



Scene V. Court before the Same. 
Enter Lear, Kent, and Fool. 

Lear. Go you before to Gloster with these letters. Ac- 
quaint my daughter no further with any thing you know than 
comes from her demand out of the letter. If your diligence 
be not speedy, I shall be there afore you. 

Kent. I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered your 
letter - {Exit. 

Fool. If a man's brains were in 's heels, were 't not in 
danger of kibes? 

Lear. Ay, boy. 

Fool. Then, I prithee, be merry; thy wit shall ne'er go 
slip-shod. „ 

Lear. Ha, ha, ha ! 

Fool. Shalt see thy other daughter will use thee kindly; 
for though she 's as like this as a crab 's like an apple, yet I 
can tell what I can tell. 

Lear. What canst tell, boy ? 

Fool. She will taste as like this as a crab does to a crab. 
Thou canst tell why one's nose stands i' the middle on 's face ? 

Lear. No. 

Fool. Why, to keep one's eyes of either side 's nose, that 
what a man cannot smell out, he may spy into. 2I 

Lear. I did her wrong — 

Fool. Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell ? 

Lear. No. 

Fool. Nor I neither; but I can tell why a snail has a 
house. 

Lear. Why? 

Fool. Why, to put 's head in ; not to give it away to his 
daughters, and leave his horns without a case. 

Lear. I will forget my nature. So kind a father ! — Be my 
horses ready ? 3I 



ACT I. SCENE V. 



n 



Fool. Thy asses are gone about 'em. The reason why the 
seven stars are no moe than seven is a pretty reason. 

Lear. Because they are not eight? 

Fool. Yes, indeed; thou wouldst make a good fool. 

Lear. To take 't again perforce ! Monster ingratitude ! 

Fool. If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I 'd have thee beaten 
for being old before thy time. 

Lear. How's that ? 

Fool. Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst 
been wise. 42 

Lear. O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven ! 
Keep me in temper : I would not be mad ! — 

E?iter Gentleman. 

How now ! are the horses ready ? 
Gentleman. Ready, my lord. 
Lear. Come, boy. \_Exeimt. 





I heard myself proclaim'd (ii. 3. 1). 



ACT II. 

Scene I. The Earl of Gloster's Castle. 
Enter Edmund and Curan, meeting. 

Edmund. Save thee, Curan. 

Curan. And you, sir. I have been with your father, and 
given him notice that the Duke of Cornwall and Regan his 
duchess will be here with him this night. 



ACT IT. SCENE I. 



73 



Edmund. How comes that? 

Curan. Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news 
abroad-; I mean the whispered ones, for they are yet but 
ear-kissing arguments? 

Edmund. Not I ; pray you, what are they ? 

Curan. Have you heard of no likely wars toward, 'twixt 
the Dukes of Cornwall and Albany? n 

Edmund. Not a word. 

Curan. You may do then in time. Fare you well, sir. 

[Exit. 

Edmund. The duke be here to-night ? The better ! best ! 
This weaves itself perforce into my business. 
My father hath set guard to take my brother; 
And I have one thing, of a queasy question, 
Which I must act. Briefness and fortune, work ! — 
Brother, a word ; descend ! Brother, I say ! 

Enter Edgar. 

My father watches ! O sir, fly this place ! 20 

Intelligence is given where you are hid ; 

You have now the good advantage of the night. 

Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Cornwall ? 

He 's coming hither, now, i' the night, i' the haste, 

And Regan with him ; have you nothing said 

Upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Albany ? 

Advise yourself. 

Edgar. I am sure on 't, not a word. 

Edmund. I hear my father coming. Pardon me ; 
In cunning I must draw my sword upon you. 
Draw ; seem to defend yourself; now quit you well. 30 

Yield ! come before my father ! — Light, ho, here ! — 
Fly, brother ! Torches, torches ! — So, farewell. 

[Exit Edgar. 
Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion 
Of my more fierce endeavour. I have seen drunkards 



74 



KING IEAR. 



Do more than this in sport. — Father, father ! — 
Stop, stop ! — No help ? 

Enter Gloster, and Servants with torches. 

Gloster. Now, Edmund, where 's the villain? 

Edmund. Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out, 
Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon 
To stand auspicious mistress. 

Gloster. But where is he ? 40 

Edmund. Look, sir, I bleed. 

Gloster. Where is the villain, Edmund ? 

Edmund. Fled this way, sir, when by no means he could — 

Gloster. Pursue him, ho ! _ Go after. — [Exeunt some Ser- 
vants.] By no means what? 

Edmund. Persuade me to the murther of your lordship; 
But that I told him the revenging gods 
'Gainst parricides did all the thunder bend, 
Spoke with how manifold and strong a bond 
The child was bound to the father;- — sir, in fine, 
Seeing how loathly opposite I stood 
To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion 
With his prepared sword he charges home 
My unprovided body, lanc'd mine arm : 
But when he saw my best alarum'd spirits 
Bold in the quarrel's right, rous'd to the encounter, 
Or whether gasted by the noise I made, 
Full suddenly he fled. 

Gloster. Let him fly far : 

Not in this land shall he remain uncaught; 
And found — dispatch. The noble duke my master, 
My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night. 
By his authority I will proclaim it, 60 

That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks, 
Bringing the murtherous coward to the stake ; 
He that conceals him, death. 



ACT II. SCENE I 



75 



Edmund. When I dissuaded him from his intent, 
And found him pight to do it, with curst speech 
I threaten'd to discover him ; he replied : 
'Thou unpossessing bastard ! dost thou think, 
If I would stand against thee, would the reposal 
Of any trust, virtue, or worth in thee 

Make thy words faith'd ? No; what I should deny — 7 o 
As this I would, — ay, though thou didst produce 
My very character — I 'd turn it all 
To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practice ; 
And thou must make a dullard of the world, 
If they not thought the profits of my death 
Were very pregnant and potential spurs 
To make thee seek it.' 

Gloster. Strong and fasten'd villain ! 

Would he deny his letter? I never got him. \Tucket within. 
Hark, the duke's trumpets ! I know not why he comes. 
All ports I '11 bar; the villain shall not scape : so 

The duke must grant me that. Besides, his picture 
I will send far and near, that all the kingdom 
May have due note of him ; and of my land, 
Loyal and natural boy, I '11 work the means 
To make thee capable. 

Enter Cornwall, Regan, mid Attendants. 

Cornwall. How now, my noble friend ! since I came hither, 
Which I can call but now, I have heard strange news. 

Regan. If it be true, all vengeance comes too short 
Which can pursue the offender. How dost, my lord ? 

Gloster. O, madam, my old heart is crack'd, — it 's crack'd ! 

Regan. What, did my father's godson seek your life ? 91 
He whom my father nam'd? your Edgar? 

Gloster. O, lad}', lady, shame would have it hid ! 

Regan. Was he not companion with the riotous knights 
That tend upon my father ? 



KING LEAR. 



Gloster. I know not, madam. — 'T is too bad. too bad. 

Edmund. Yes, madam, he was of that consort. 

Regan. No marvel then, though he were ill affected; 
'T is they have put him on the old man's death, 
To have th' expense and waste of his revenues. 
I have this present evening from my sister 
Been well inform'd of them, and with such cautions 
That if they come to sojourn at my house, 
I '11 not be there. 

Cornwall. Nor I, assure thee, Regan. — 

Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father 
A child-like office. 

Edmund. 'T was my duty, sir. 

Gloster. He did bewray his practice, and receiv'd 
This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him. 

Cornwall. Is he pursued ? 

Gloster. Ay, my good lord, 

Cornwall. If he be taken, he shall never more 
Be fear'd of doing harm ; make your own purpose, 
How in my strength you please. — For you, Edmund, 
Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant 
So much commend itself, you shall be ours. 
Natures of such deep trust we shall much need; 
You we first seize on. 

Edmund. I shall serve you, sir, 

Truly, however else. 

Gloster. For him I thank your grace. 

Cornwall. You know not why we came to visit you ? 

Regan. Thus, out of season, threading dark-eyed night; 
Occasions, noble Gloster, of some poise, 
Wherein we must have use of your advice. 
Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister, 
Of differences, which I best thought it fit 
To answer from our home ; the several messengers 
From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend, 



ACT II. SCENE II 77 

Lay comforts to your bosom, and bestow 
Your needful counsel to our businesses, 
Which craves the instant use. 

Gloster. I serve you, madam. — 

Your graces are right welcome. [Flourish. Exeunt. 

Scene II. Before Gloster 's Castle. 
Enter Kent and Oswald, severally. 

Oswald. Good dawning to thee, friend ; art of this house ? 

Kent. Ay. 

Oswald. Where may we set our horses ? 

Kent. V the mire. 

Oswald. Prithee, if thou lov'st me, tell me. 

Kent. I love thee not. 

Oswald. Why then I care not for thee. 

Kent. If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make 
thee care for me. 

Oswald. Why dost thou use me thus ? I know thee not. 

Kent. Fellow, I know thee. « 

Oswald. What dost thou know me for ? 

Kent. A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a 
base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, 
filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered, action-taking, 
whoreson, glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical rogue; one- 
trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd in way 
of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a 
knave, beggar, coward, pandar, and the son and heir of a 
mongrel bitch ; one whom I will beat into clamorous whin- 
ing, if thou deniest the least syllable of thy addition. 21 

Oswald. Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to 
rail on one that is neither known of thee nor knows thee ! 

Kent. What a brazen-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou 
knowest me ! Is it two days ago since I tripped up thy 
heels, and beat thee before the king ? Draw, you rogue ! 



7 8 



KING LEAR. 



for, though it be night, yet the moon shines; I '11 make a 
sop o' the moonshine of you; you whoreson cullionly barber- 
monger, draw. 

Oswald. Away ! I have nothing to do with thee. 30 

Kent. Draw, you rascal! You come with letters against 
the king, and take vanity the puppet's part against the 
royalty of her father. Draw, you rogue, or I '11 so carbonado 
your shanks ! draw, you rascal ! come your ways ! 

Oswald. Help, ho ! murther ! help ! 

Kent. Strike, you slave ! stand, rogue, stand ! you neat 
slave, strike ! \B eating him. 

Oswald. Help, ho ! murther ! murther ! 






Enter Edmund, with his rapier drawn. 

Edmund. How now ! What's the matter? [Parting them. 

Kent. With you, goodman boy, if you please; come, I '11 

flesh ye ! come on, young master ! 41 

Efiler Cornwall, Regan, Gloster, and Servants. 

Gloster. Weapons ! arms ! What 's the matter here ? 

Cornwall. Keep peace, upon your lives ! 
He dies that strikes again ! What is the matter? 

Regan. The messengers from our sister and the king ? 

Cornwall. What is your difference ? speak. 

Oswald. I am scarce in breath, my lord. 

Kent. No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour. You 
cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee ; a tailor made 
thee. s° 

Cornwall. Thou art a strange fellow; a tailor make a man? 

Kent. Ay, a tailor, sir; a stone-cutter or a painter could 
not have made him so ill, though they had been but two 
hours o' the trade. 

Cornwall. Speak yet, how grew your quarrel ? 

Oswald. This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared 
at suit of his grey beard, — 



ACT II. SCENE II. 



79 



Kent. Thou whoreson zed ! thou unnecessary letter ! — My 
lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted 
villain into mortar, and daub the wall of a jakes with him. 
— Spare my grey beard, you wagtail ? 61 

Cornwall. Peace, sirrah ! — 
You beastly knave, know you no reverence ? 

Kent. Yes, sir; but anger hath a privilege. 

Cornwall. Why art thou angry ? 

Kent. That such a slave as this should wear a sword, 
Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these, 
Like rats, oft bite the holy cords a-twain 
Which are too intrinse t' unloose; smooth every passion 
That in the natures of their lords rebel, 7 o 

Being oil to fire, snow to the colder moods; 
Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks 
With every gale and vary of their masters, 
Knowing nought, like dogs, but following. 
A plague upon your epileptic visage ! 
Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool ? 
Goose, if I had you upon Sarum plain, 
I 'd drive ye cackling home to Camelot. 

Cornwall. What, art thou mad, old fellow ? 

Gloster. How fell you out ? say that. 80 

Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy 
Than I and such a knave. 

Cornwall. Why dost thou call him knave ? What is his 
fault ? 

Kent. His countenance likes me not. 

Cornwall. No more, perchance, does mine, nor his, nor 
hers. 

Kent. Sir, 't is my occupation to be plain ; 
I have seen better faces in my time 
Than stands on any shoulder that I see 
Before me at this instant. 

Cornwall. This is some fellow, 



80 KING LEAR. 

Who, having been prais'd for bluntness, doth affect 93 

A saucy roughness, and constrains the garb 

Quite from his nature; he cannot flatter, he, — 

An honest mind and plain, — he must speak truth ! 

An they will take it, so ; if not, he 's plain. 

These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness 

Harbour more craft and more corrupter ends 

Than twenty silly-ducking observants 

That stretch their duties nicely. 

Kent. Sir, in good sooth, in sincere verity, 
Under the allowance of your great aspect, 100 

Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire 
On flickering Phcebus' front, — 

Cornwall. What mean'st by this ? 

Kent. To go out of my dialect, which you discommend so 
much. I know, sir, I am no flatterer : he that beguiled you 
in a plain accent was a plain knave ; which for my part I 
will not be, though I should win your displeasure to entreat 
me to 't. 

Cornwall. What was the offence you gave him ? 

Oswald. I never gave him any. 
It pleas'd the king his master very late no 

To strike at me, upon his misconstruction ; 
When he, compact, and flattering his displeasure, 
Tripp'd me behind ; being down, insulted, rail'd, 
And put upon him such a deal of man, 
That worthied him, got praises of the king 
For him attempting who was self-subdued; 
And in the fleshment of this dread exploit 
Drew on me here again. 

Kent. None of these rogues and cowards 

But Ajax is their fool. 

Cornwall. Fetch forth the stocks ! — 

You stubborn ancient knave, you reverend braggart, 120 

We '11 teach you — 



ACT II. SCENE II 8 1 

Kent. Sir, I am too old to learn ; 

Call not your stocks for me. I serve the king, 
On whose employment I was sent to you. 
You shall do small respect, show too bold malice 
Against the grace and person of my master, 
Stocking his messenger. 

Cornwall. Fetch forth the stocks ! As I have life and 
honour, 
There shall he sit till noon. 

Regan. Till noon ! till night, my lord ; and all night too. 

Kent. Why, madam, if I were your father's dog, 130 

You should not use me so. 

Regan. Sir, being his knave, I will. 

Cornwall. This is a fellow of the self-same colour 
Our sister speaks of. — Come, bring away the stocks ! 

[Stocks brought out. 

Gloster. Let me beseech your grace not to do so. 
His fault is much, and the good king his master 
Will check him for 't; your purpos'd low correction 
Is such as basest and contemned'st wretches 
For pilferings and most common trespasses 
Are punish'd with. The king must take it ill, 
That he, so slightly valued in his messenger, 140 

Should have him thus restrain'd. 

Cornwall. I '11 answer that. 

Regan. My sister may receive it much more worse, 
To have her gentleman abus'd, assaulted, 
For following her affairs. — Put in his legs. 

[Kent is put in the stocks. 
Come, my lord, away. [Exeunt all but Gloster and Kent. 

Gloster. I am sorry for thee, friend; 't is the duke's 
pleasure, 
Whose disposition, all the world well knows, 
Will not be rubb'd nor stopp'd. I '11 entreat for thee. 

Kent. Pray, do not, sir. I have watch'd and travell'd hard; 

F 



8 2 KING LEAR. 

Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I '11 whistle. 150 

A good man's fortune may grow out at heels. 
Give you good morrow ! 

Gloster. [Aside] The duke 's to blame in this; 't will be 
ill taken. [Exit. 

Kent. Good king, that must approve the common saw, 
Thou out of heaven's benediction comest 
To the warm sun ! 

Approach, thou beacon to this under globe, 
That by thy comfortable beams I may 
Peruse this letter! Nothing almost sees miracles 
But misery. I know 't is from Cordelia, 160 

Who hath most fortunately been inform 'd 
Of my obscured course; and shall find time 
From this enormous state, seeking to give 
Losses their remedies. All weary and o'er-watch'd, 
Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold 
This shameful lodging. 
Fortune, good night : smile once more ; turn thy wheel ! 

[Sleeps. 

Scene III. A Part of the Heath. 
Efiter Edgar. 

Edgar. I heard myself proclaimed; 
And by the happy hollow of a tree 
Escap'd the hunt. No port is free; no place, 
That guard and most unusual vigilance 
Does not attend my taking. Whiles I may scape 
I will preserve myself, and am bethought 
To take the basest and most poorest shape 
That ever penury, in contempt of man, 
Brought near to beast ; my face I '11 grime with filth, 
Blanket my loins, elf all my hair in knots, 
And with presented nakedness outface 
The winds and persecutions of the sky. 



ACT II. SCENE IF. g* 

The country gives me proof and precedent 

Of Bedlam beggars, who with roaring voices 

Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms 

Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary; 

And with this horrible object, from low farms, 

Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes and mills, 

Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers, 

Enforce their charity. Poor Turlygod ! poor Tom ! 20 

That 's something yet; Edgar I nothing am. [Exit. 

Scene IV. Before Gloster^s Castle. 
Kent in the Stocks. Enter Lear, Fool, and Gentleman. 

Lear. 'T is strange that they should so depart from home, 
And not send back my messenger. 

Gentlema?i. As I learn'd, 

The night before there was no purpose in them 
Of this remove. 

Kent. Hail to thee, noble master! 

Lear. Ha ! 
Mak'st thou this shame thy pastime ? 

Kent. No, my lord. 

Fool. Ha, ha ! he wears cruel garters. Horses are tied 
by the heads, dogs and bears by the neck, monkeys by the 
loins, and men by the legs; when a man 's over-lusty at legs, 
then he wears wooden nether-stocks. k> 

Lear. What 's he that hath so much thy place mistook 
To set thee here ? 

Kent. It is both he and she, 

Your son and daughter. 

Lear. No. 

Kent. Yes. 

Lear. No, I say. 

Kent. I say, yea. 

Lear. No, no, they would not. 



84 KING LEAR. 

Kent. Yes, they have. 

Lear. By Jupiter, I swear, no ! 

Kent. By Juno, I swear, ay ! 

Lear. They durst not .do 't ; 

They could not, would not do 't ; 't is worse than murther 
To do upon respect such violent outrage. 
Resolve me with all modest haste which way 
Thou mightst deserve, or they impose, this usage, 
Coming from us. 

Kent. My lord, when at their home 

I did commend your highness' letters to them, 
Ere I was risen from the place that show'd 
My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post, 
Stew'd in his haste, half breathless, panting forth 30 

From Goneril his mistress salutations; 
Deliver'd letters, spite of intermission, 
Which presently they read : on whose contents 
They summon'd up their meiny, straight took horse, 
Commanded me to follow and attend 
The leisure of their answer, gave me cold looks; 
And meeting here the other messenger, 
Whose welcome I perceiv'd had poison'd mine — 
Being the very fellow which of late 
Display'd so saucily against your highness — 4 o 

Having more man than wit about me, drew : 
He rais'd the house with loud and coward cries. 
Your son and daughter found this trespass worth 
The shame which here it suffers. 

Fool. Winter 's not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way. 
Fathers that wear rags 

Do make their children blind; 
But fathers that bear bags 

Shall see their children kind. — 
But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours for thy 
daughters as thou canst tell in a year. 51 



ACT II. SCENE IV. 85 

Lear. O, how this mother swells up toward my heart ! 
Hysterica passio, down, thou climbing sorrow, 
Thy element 's below ! — Where is this daughter? 
Kent. With the earl, sir, here within. 

Lear. Follow me not ; stay here. \Exit. 

Gentleman. Made you no more offence but what you 

speak of? 
Kent. None. — 
How chance the king comes with so small a number? 

Fool. An thou hadst been set i' the stocks for that ques- 
tion, thou 'dst well deserved it. 61 
Kent Why, fool ? 

Fool. We '11 set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee 
there 's no labouring i' the winter. All that follow their 
noses are led by their eyes but blind men; and there 's not 
a nose among twenty but can smell him that 's stinking. Let 
go thy hold when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it 
break thy neck with following it; but the great one that 
goes upward, let him draw thee after. When a wise man 
gives the better counsel, give me mine again ; I would have 
none but knaves follow it, since a fool gives it. 71 

That sir which serves and seeks for gain, 

And follows but for form, 
Will pack when it begins to rain, 

And leave thee in the storm. 
But I will tarry; the fool will stay, 

And let the wise man fly : 
The knave turns fool that runs away; 
The fool no knave, perdy. 
Kent. Where learned you this, fool ? 80 

Fool. Not i' the stocks, fool ! 

Re-enter Lear, with Gloster. 

Lear. Deny to speak with me? They are sick? they are 
weary ? 



86 KING LEAR. 

They have travelPd all the night? Mere fetches, 
The images of revolt and flying off. 
Fetch me a better answer. 

Gloster. My dear lord, 

You know the fiery quality of the duke; 
How unremovable and fix'd he is 
In his own course. 

Lear. Vengeance ! plague ! death ! confusion ! 
Fiery ? what quality ? Why, Gloster, Gloster, 
I 'd speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife. 

Gloster. Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them so. 

Lear. Inform'd them ! Dost thou understand me, man ? 

Gloster. Ay, my good lord. 

Lear. The king would speak with Cornwall; the deal 
father 
Would with his daughter speak, commands her service. 
Are they inform'd of this ? My breath and blood ! 
Fiery ? the fiery duke ? Tell the hot duke that — 
No, but not yet; may be he is not well. 
Infirmity doth still neglect all office 100 

Whereto our health is bound; we are not ourselves 
When nature being oppress'd commands the mind 
To suffer with the body. I '11 forbear; 
And am fall'n out with my more headier will, 
To take the indispos'd and sickly fit 
For the sound man. — Death on my state ! wherefore 
Should he sit here ? This act persuades me 
That this remotion of the duke and her 
Is practice only. Give me my servant forth. 
Go tell the duke and 's wife I 'd speak with them, no 

Now, presently; bid them come forth and hear me, 
Or at their chamber-door I '11 beat the drum 
Till it cry sleep to death. 

Gloster. I would have all well betwixt you. {Exit. 

Lear. O me, my heart, my rising heart ! But, down ! 



ACT II. SCENE IV. 87 

Fool. Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the eels 
when she put 'em i' the paste alive; she knapped 'em o' 
the coxcombs with a stick, and cried ' Down, wantons, down !' 
'T was her brother that, in pure kindness to his horse, but- 
tered his hay. 120 

Re-enter Gloster, with Cornwall. Regan, and Servants. 

Lear. Good morrow to you both. 

Cornwall. Hail to your grace ! 

[Kent is set at liberty. 

Regan. I am glad to see your highness. 

Lear. Regan, I think you are ; I know what reason 
I have to think so : if thou shouldst not be glad, 
I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb, 
Sepulchring an adulteress. — [To Kent] O, are you free? 
Some other time for that. — Beloved Regan, 
Thy sister 's naught. O Regan, she hath tied 
Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture, here ! 

[Points to his heart. 
I can scarce speak to thee; thou 'It not believe 130 

With how deprav'd a quality — O Regan ! 

Regan. I pray you, sir, take patience; I have hope 
You less know how to value her desert 
Than she to scant her duty. 

Lear. Say, how is that ? 

Regan. I cannot think my sister in the least 
Would fail her obligation ; if, sir, perchance 
She have restrain'd the riots of your followers, 
'T is on such ground and to such wholesome end 
As clears her from all blame. 

Lear. My curses on her ! 

Regan. O, sir, you are old ; 140 

Nature in you stands on the very verge 
Of her confine : you should be rul'd and led 
By some discretion that discerns your state 



88 KING LEAR. 

Better than you yourself. Therefore I pray you 
That to our sister you do make return ; 
Say you have wrong'd her, sir. 

Lear. Ask her forgiveness ? 

Do you but mark how this becomes the house : 
' Dear daughter, I confess that I am old; 
Age is unnecessary : on my knees I beg 
That you '11 vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.' 150 

Regan. Good sir, no. more; these are unsightly tricks. 
Return you to my sister. 

Lear. Never, Regan ! 

She hath abated me of half my train, 
Look'd black upon me, strook me with her tongue, 
Most serpent-like, upon the very heart. 
All the stor'd vengeances of heaven fall 
On her ingrateful top ! Strike her young bones, 
You taking airs, with lameness ! 

Cornwall. Fie, sir, fie ! 

Lear. You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames 
Into her scornful eyes ! Infect her beauty, 160 

You fen-suck'd fogs, drawn by the powerful sun, 
To fall and blast her pride ! 

Regan. O the blest gods ! so will you wish on me, 
When the rash mood is on. 

Lear. No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse; 
Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give 
Thee o'er to harshness. Her eves are fierce, but thine 
Do comfort and not burn. 'T is not in thee 
To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train, 
To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes, 170 

And in conclusion to oppose the bolt 
Against my coming in : thou better know'st 
The offices of nature, bond of childhood, 
Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude ; 
Thy half o' the kingdom hast thou not forgot, 
Wherein I thee endow'd, 



ACT II. SCENE IV. 



89 



Regan. Good sir, to the purpose. 

Lear. Who put my man i' the stocks? \Tucket within. 

Cornwall. What trumpet 's that ? 

Regan. I know 't, — my sister's; this approves her letter, 
That she would soon be here. — 

Enter Oswald. 

Is your lady come ? 
Lear. This is a slave, whose easy-borrow'd pride 180 

Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows. — 
Out, varlet, from my sight ! 

Cornwall. What means your grace ? 

Lear. Who stock'd my servant? — Regan, I have good 
hope 
Thou didst not know on 't. — Who comes here ? 

Enter Goneril. 

O heavens, 
If you do love old men, if your sweet sway 
Allow obedience, if yourselves are old, 
Make it your cause; send down, and take my part ! — 
Art not asham'd to look upon this beard ? — 
O Regan, will you take her by the hand? 

■ Goneril. Why not by the hand, sir ? How have I offended ? 
All 's not offence that indiscretion finds 191 

And dotage terms so. 

Lear. O sides, you are too tough ; 

Will you yet hold ? — How came my man i' the stocks ? 

Cornwall. I set him there, sir; but his own disorders 
Deserv'd much less advancement. 

Lear. You ! did you ? 

Regan. I pray you, father, being weak, seem so. 
If, till the expiration of your month, 
You will return and sojourn with my sister, 
Dismissing half your train, come then to me; 



QO KING LEAR. 

I am now from home, and out of that provision 200 

Which shall be needful for your entertainment. 

Lear. Return to her, and fifty men dismiss'd ? 
No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose 
To wage against the enmity o' the air, 
To be a comrade with the wolf and owl. — 
Necessity's sharp pinch ! — Return with her ? 
Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took 
Our youngest born, I could as well be brought 
To knee his throne, and, squire-like, pension beg 
To keep base life afoot. Return with her ? 210 

Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter 
To this detested groom. ^Pointing at Oswald. 

Goneril. At your choice, sir. 

Lear. I prithee, daughter, do not make me mad. 
I will not trouble thee, my child ; farewell. 
We '11 no more meet, no more see one another. 
But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter; 
Or rather a disease that 's in my flesh, 
Which I must needs call mine; thou art a boil, 
A plague-sore, an embossed carbuncle, 

In my corrupted blood. But I '11 not chide thee ; 220 

Let shame come when it will, I do not call it : 
I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot, 
Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove. 
Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure. 
I can be patient; I can stay with Regan, 
I and my hundred knights. 

Regan. Not altogether so; 

I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided 
For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister; 
For those that mingle reason with your passion 
Must be content to think you old, and so — 230 

But she knows what she does. 

L,ear. Is this well spoken ? 



ACT II. SCENE IV. 



91 



Regan. I dare avouch it, sir. What, fifty followers ? 
Is it not well ? What should you need of more ? 
Yea, or so many, sith that both charge and danger 
Speak 'gainst so great a number? How, in one house, 
Should many people under two commands 
Hold amity? 'T is hard, almost impossible. 

GonenL Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance 
From those that she calls servants or from mine ? 

Regan. Why not, my lord ? If then they chanc'd to slack 
ye, 240 

We could control them. If you will come to me, — 
For now I spy a danger, — I entreat you 
To bring but five and twenty; to no more 
Will I give place or notice. 

Lear. I gave you all — 

Regan. And in good time you gave it. 

Lear. Made you my guardians, my depositaries; 
But kept a reservation to be follow'd 
With such a number. What, must I come to you 
With five and twenty, Regan ? said you so ? 249 

Regan. And speak 't again, my lord; no more with me. 

Lear. Those wicked creatures yet do look well-favour'd, 
When others are more wicked ; not being the worst 
Stands in some rank of praise. [To Goneril\ I '11 go with 

thee; 
Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty, 
And thou art twice her love. 

Goneril. Hear me, my lord ; 

What need you five and twenty, ten, or five, 
To follow in a house where twice so many 
Have a command to tend you? 

Regan. What need one ? 

Lear. O, reason not the need ; our basest beggars - 
Are in the poorest thing superfluous. 260 

Allow not nature more than nature needs, 



9 2 KING LEAR. 

Man's life is cheap as beast's. Thou art a lady ; 

If only to go warm were gorgeous, 

Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st, 

Which scarcely keeps thee warm. But for true need, — 

You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need ! 

You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, 

As full of grief as age; wretched in both. 

If it be you that stirs these daughters' hearts 

Against their father, fool me not so much 270 

To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger, 

And let not women's weapons, water-drops, 

Stain my man's cheeks ! — No, you unnatural hags, 

I will have such revenges on you both, 

That all the world shall — I will do such things, — 

What they are, yet I know not; but they shall be 

The terrors of the earth. You think I '11 weep ; 

No, I '11 not weep. 

I have full cause of weeping ; but this heart 

Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, 280 

Or ere I '11 weep. — O fool, I shall go mad ! 

\Exeunt Lear, Gloster, Kent, and Fool. 
Storm and tempest. 

Cornwall. Let us withdraw; 't will be a storm. 

Regan. This house is little; the old man and 's people 
Cannot be well bestow'd. 

Goneril. 'T is his own blame ; hath put himself from rest, 
And must needs taste his folly. 

Regan. For his particular, I '11 receive him gladly, 
But not one follower. 

Goneril. So am I purpos'd. 

Where is my lord of Gloster ? 289 

Cornwall. Follow'd the old man forth; he is return'd. 

Re-enter Gloster. 
Gloster. The king is in high rage. 



ACT II. SCENE IV. 



93 



Cornwall. Whither is he going ? 

Gloster. He calls to horse, but will I know not whither. 

Cornwall. 'T is best to give him way ; he leads himself. 

Goneril. My lord, entreat him by no means to stay. 

Gloster. Alack ! the night comes on, and the high winds 
Do sorely ruffle; for many miles about 
There 's scarce a bush. 

Regan. O, sir, to wilful men, 

The injuries that they themselves procure 
Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors. 
He is attended with a desperate train ; 300 

And what they may incense him to, being apt 
To have his ear abus'd, wisdom bids fear. 

Cornwall. Shut up your doors, my lord; 't is a wild night : 
My Regan counsels well. Come out o' the storm. 

\Exeunt. 








ACT IIL 

Scene I. A Heath. 
Storm still. Enter Kent and a Gentleman, meeting. 

Kent. Who 's there, besides foul weather ? 

Gentleman. One minded like the weather, most unquietly. 

Kent. I know you. Where 's the king ? 

Gentleman. Contending with the fretful elements • 
Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea, 
Or swell the curled waters 'bove the main, 
That things might change or cease; tears his white hair, 
Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage, 
Catch in their fury, and make nothing of; 



ACT III. SCENE I. 



95 



Strives in his little world of man to out-scorn 10 

The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain. 

This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch, 

The lion and the belly-pinched wolf 

Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs, 

And bids what will take all. 

Kent. But who is with him ? 

Gentleman. None but the fool, who labours to outjest 
His heart-strook injuries. 

Kent. Sir, I do know you, 

And dare, upon the warrant of my note, 
Commend a dear thing to you. There is division, 
Although as yet the face of it is cover'd 20 

With mutual cunning, 'twixt Albany and Cornwall ; 
Who have — as who have not, that their great stars 
Thron'd and set high? — servants, who seem no less, 
Which are to France the spies and speculations 
Intelligent of our state. What hath been seen, 
Either in snuffs and packings of the dukes, 
Or the hard rein which both of them have borne 
Against the old kind king, or something deeper, 
Whereof perchance these are but furnishings, — 
But, true it is, from France there comes a power 30 

Into this scatter'd kingdom ; who already, 
Wise in our negligence, have secret feet 
In some of our best ports, and are at point 
To show their open banner. Now to you ; 
If on my credit you dare build so far 
To make your speed to Dover, you shall find 
Some that will thank you, making just report 
Of how unnatural and bemadding sorrow 
The king hath cause to plain. 

I am a gentleman of blood and breeding, 4 o 

And from some knowledge and assurance offer 
This office to you. 



9 5 KING LEAR. 

Gentleman. I will talk further with you. 

Kent. No > do not 

For confirmation that I am much more 
Than my out-wall, open this purse and take 
What it contains. If you shall see Cordelia, — 
As fear not but you shall,— show her this ring ; 
And she will tell you who that fellow is 
That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm ! 
I will go seek the king. 

Gentleman. Give me your hand ; s ° 

Have you no more to say? 

Kent. Few words, but, to effect, more than all yet; 
That, when we have found the king,— in which your pain 
That way, I '11 this,— he that first lights on him 
Holla the other. [Exeunt severally. 

Scene II. Another Part of the Heath. Storm still. 
Enter Lear and Fool. 

Lear. Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks ! rage ! blow! 
You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout 
Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks ! 
You sulphurous and thought-executing fires, 
Vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunderbolts, 
Singe my white head ! And thou, all-shaking thunder, 
Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world ! 
Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once 
That make ingrateful man ! 9 

Fool. O nuncle, court holy-water in a dry house is better 
than this rain-water out o' door. Good nuncle, in ; ask thy 
daughters' blessing: here 's a night pities neither wise men 

nor fools. 

Lear. Rumble thy bellyful ! Spit, fire ! spout, rain ! 
Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters. 
I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness ; 



ACT III. SCENE II 



97 



I never gave you kingdom, call'd you children, 

You owe me no subscription : then let fall 

Your horrible pleasure; here I stand, your slave, 

A poor, infirm, weak, and despis'd old man. 20 

But yet I call you servile ministers, 

That will with two pernicious daughters join 

Your high-engender'd battles 'gainst a head 

So old and white as this. O ! O ! 't is foul ! 

Fool. He that has a house to put 's head in has a good 
head-piece. 

The man that makes his toe 

What he his heart should make 
Shall of a corn cry woe, 

And turn his sleep to wake. 30 

For there was never yet fair woman but she made mouths 
in a glass. 

Lear. No, I will be the pattern of all patience \ 
I will say nothing. 

Enter Kent. 

Kent. Who 's there ? 

Fool. Marry, here 's a wise man and a fool. 

Kent. Alas, sir, are you here ? Things that love night 
Love not such nights as these ; the wrathful skies 
Gallow the very wanderers of the dark, 

And make them keep their caves. Since I was man, 40 

Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder, 
Such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never 
Remember to have heard; man's nature cannot carry 
The affliction nor the fear. 

Lear. Let the great gods, 

That keep this dreadful pudder o'er our heads, 
Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch, 
That hast within thee undivulged crimes, 
Unwhipp'd of justice. Hide thee, thou bloody hand, 

G 



9 8 



KING LEAR. 



Thou perjur'd, and thou simular of virtue 

That art incestuous. Caitiff, to pieces shake, 5° 

That under covert and convenient seeming 

Has practis'd on man's life. Close pent-up guilts, 

Rive your concealing continents and cry 

These dreadful summ oners grace. I am a man 

More sinn'd against than sinning. 

Kent. Alack, bare-headed ! 

Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel ; 
Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the tempest. 
Repose you there, while I to this hard house — 
More harder than the stones whereof 't is rais'd, 
Which even but now, demanding after you, 60 

Denied me to come in — return, and force 
Their scanted courtesy. 

Lear. My wits begin to turn. — 

Come on, my boy; how dost, my boy? art cold? 
I am cold myself. — Where is this straw, my fellow ? — 
The art of our necessities is strange, 

That can make vile things precious. — Come, your hovel. — 
Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart 
That 's sorry yet for thee. 

Fool. [Sings] He that has and a little tiny wit, 

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, 70 

Must make conte?it with his fortunes Jit, 
For the rain it raineth every day. 
Lear. True, boy. — Come, bring us to this hovel. 

[Fxeunt Lear and Kent. 
Fool. I '11 speak a prophecy ere I go : 

When priests are more in word than matter; 

When brewers mar their malt with water; 

When nobles are their tailors' tutors ; 

No heretics burn'd, but wenches' suitors; 

When every case in law is right ; 

No squire in debt, nor no poor knight; 



ACT III. SCENE III. 99 

When slanders do not live in tongues, 
Nor cutpurses come not to throngs; 
Then shall the realm of Albion 
Come to great confusion : 
Then comes the time, who lives to see 't, 
That going shall be us'd with feet. 
This prophecy Merlin shall makej for I live before his time. 

[Exit 

Scene III. Gloster' s Castle. 
Enter Gloster and Edmund. 

Gloster. Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this unnatural 
dealing. When I desired their leave that I might pity him, 
they took from me the use of mine own house; charged me, 
on pain of perpetual displeasure, neither to speak of him, 
entreat for him, or any way sustain him. 

Edmund. Most savage and unnatural ! 6 

Gloster. Go to ; say you nothing. There 's a division be- 
tween the dukes, and a worse matter than that. I have re- 
ceived a letter this night; 't is dangerous to be spoken; I 
have locked the letter in my closet. These injuries the king 
now bears will be revenged home; there is part of a power 
already footed: we must incline to the king. I will look 
him, and privily relieve him ; go you and maintain talk with 
the duke, that my charity be not of him perceived. If he 
ask for me, I am ill and gone to bed. If I die for it, as no 
less is threatened me, the king my old master must be re- 
lieved. There is strange things toward, Edmund; pray you, 
be careful. [Exit. 

Edmimd. This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the duke 
Instantly know, and of that letter too. 20 

This seems a fair deserving, and must draw me 
That which my father loses, — no less than all. 
The younger rises when the old doth fall. [Exit. 



ioo KING LEAR. 



Scene IV. The Heath. Before a Hovel. 
Enter Lear, Kent, and Fool. 

Kent. Here is the place, my lord; good my lord, enter. 
The tyranny of the open night 's too rough 
For nature to endure. [Storm still. 

Lear. Let me alone. 

Kent. Good my lord, enter here. 

Lear. Wilt break my heart? 

Kent. I had rather break mine own. Good my lord, enter. 

Lear. Thou think'st 't is much that this contentious storm 
Invades us to the skin : so 't is to thee; 
But where the greater malady is fix'd, 
The lesser is scarce felt. Thou 'dst shun a bear; 
But if thy flight lay toward the roaring sea, 10 

Thou 'dst meet the bear i' the mouth. When the mind 's free 
The body 's delicate ; the tempest in my mind 
Doth from my senses take all feeling else 
Save what beats there. Filial ingratitude ! 
Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand 
For lifting food to 't? But I will punish home. 
No, I will weep no more. In such a night 
To shut me out ! Pour on ; I will endure. 
In such a night as this ! O Regan, Goneril ! 
Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all, — 20 

O, that way madness lies ! let me shun that; 
No more of that ! 

Kent. Good my lord, enter here. 

Lear. Prithee, go in thyself; seek thine own ease. 
This tempest will not give me leave to ponder 
On things would hurt me more. But I '11 go in. — 
In, boy; go first. — You houseless poverty, — 
Nay, get thee in. I '11 pray, and then I '11 sleep. — 

\F00l goes in. 



ACT III. SCENE IV. IO i 

Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, 

That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, 

How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, 30 

Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you 

From seasons such as these ? O, I have ta'en 

Too little care of this ! Take physic, pomp ; 

Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, 

That thou mayst shake the superflux to them 

And show the heavens more just. 

Edgar. [ Within] Fathom and half, fathom and half! Poor 
Tom ! \The Fool runs out from the hovel. 

Fool. Come not in here, nuncle, here 's a spirit. Help me, 
help me ! 4 o 

Kent. Give me thy hand. — Who 's there? 

Fool. A spirit, a spirit ! he says his name 's poor Tom. 

Kent. What art thou that dost grumble there i' the straw ? 
Come forth. 

Enter Edgar disguised as a madman. 

Edgar. Away! the foul fiend follows me! Through the 
sharp hawthorn blow the winds. Hum ! go to thy bed, and 
warm thee. 

Lear. Didst thou give all' to thy daughters? And art thou 
come to this ? 49 

Edgar. Who gives any thing to poor Tom ? whom the foul 
fiend hath led through fire and through flame, and through 
ford and whirlpool, o'er bog and quagmire; that hath laid 
knives under his pillow, and halters in his pew; set rats- 
bane by his porridge; made him proud of heart, to ride on 
a bay trotting-horse over four-inched bridges, to course his 
own shadow for a traitor. Bless thy five wits ! Tom 's a-cold. 
O, do de, do de, do de. Bless thee from whirlwinds, star- 
blasting, and taking ! Do poor Tom some charity, whom the 
foul fiend vexes. There could I have him now, and there, 
and there again, and there. [Storm still. 



IC2 KING LEAR. 

Lear. What, have his daughters brought him to this 
pass ? — 61 

Couldst thou save nothing? Wouldst thou give 'em all ? 

Fool. Nay, he reserved a blanket, else we had been all 
shamed. 

Lear. Now, all the plagues that in the pendulous air 
Hang fated o'er men's faults light on thy daughters ! 

Kent. He hath no daughters, sir. 

Lear. Death, traitor ! nothing could have subdued nature 
To such a lowness but his unkind daughters. 
Is it the fashion that discarded fathers 7° 

Should have thus little mercy on their flesh ? 
Judicious punishment ! 't was this flesh begot 
Those pelican daughters. 

Edgar. Pillicock sat on Pillicock-hill ; 
Halloo, halloo, loo, loo ! 

Fool. This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen. 

Edgar. Take heed o' the foul fiend ; obey thy parents ; 
keep thy word justly; swear not; commit not with man's 
sworn spouse; set not thy sweet heart on proud array. 
Tom 's a-cold. 80 

Lear. What hast thou been ? 

Edgar. A serving-man, proud in heart and mind; that 
curled my hair, wore gloves in my cap, swore as many oaths 
as I spake words, and broke them in the sweet face of 
heaven ; one that slept in the contriving of lust and waked 
to do it. Wine loved I deeply, dice dearly, and in woman 
out-paramoured the Turk; false of heart, light of ear, bloody 
of hand ; hog in sloth, fox in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog 
in madness, lion in prey. Let not the creaking of shoes nor 
the rustling of silks betray" thy poor heart to woman. Keep 
thy foot out of brothels, thy pen from lenders' books, and 
defy the foul fiend. — Still through the hawthorn blows the 
cold wind ; says suum, mun, nonny. Dolphin my boy, boy, 
sessa ! let him trot by. [Storm still. 



ACT III. SCENE IV. I03 

Lear. Thou wert better in thy grave than to answer with 
thy uncovered body this extremity of the skies. Is man no 
more than this ? Consider him well. Thou owest the worm 
no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no per- 
fume. Ha ! here 's three on 's are sophisticated ! Thou art 
the thing itself; unaccommodated man is no more but such 
a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lend- 
ings ! come, unbutton here. I0 2 

Fool. Prithee, nuncle, be contented; 't is a naughty night 
to swim in. Now a little fire in a wide field were like an 
old lecher's heart, a small spark, all the rest on 's body cold. 
Look, here comes a walking fire. 

Edgar. This is the foul Flibbertigibbet. He begins at 
curfew and walks at first cock; he gives the web and the 
pin, squints the eye, and makes the hare-lip; mildews the 
white wheat and hurts the poor creature of earth. no 

Saint Withold footed thrice the old ; 
He met the nightmare and her nine-fold; 
Bid her alight, 
And her troth plight, 
And, aroint thee, witch, aroint thee ! 

Enter Gloster, with a torch. 

Kent. How fares your grace ? 

Lear. What 's he ? 

Kent. Who 's there ? What is 't you seek ? 

Gloster. What are you there ? Your names? 119 

Edgar. Poor Tom, that eats the swimming frog, the toad, 
the tadpole, the wall-newt and the water; that in the fury 
of his heart, when the foul fiend rages, eats cow-dung for 
sallets; swallows the old rat and the ditch-dog; drinks the 
green mantle of the standing pool ; who is whipped from 
tithing to tithing, and stocked, punished, and imprisoned; 
who hath three suits to his back, six shirts to his body ; 
Horse to ride, and weapon to wear ; 



KING LEAR. 



But mice and rats and such small deer 
Have been Tom's food for seven long year. 
Beware my follower. — Peace, Smulkin! peace, thou fiend ! 
Gloster. What, hath your grace no better company ? 131 
Edgar. The prince of darkness is a gentleman ; Modo 
he 's called, and Mahu. 

Gloster. Our flesh and blood, my lord, is grown so vile, 
That it doth hate what gets it. 
Edgar. Poor Tom 's a-cold. 
Gloster. Go in with me: my duty cannot suffer 
To obey in all your daughters' hard commands. 
Though their injunction be to bar my doors 
And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you, 140 

Yet have I ventured to come seek you out, 
And bring you where both fire and food is ready. 
Lear. First let me talk with this philosopher. — 
What is the cause of thunder? 

Kent. Good my lord, take his offer ; go into the house. 
Lear. I '11 talk a word with this same learned Theban. — 
What is your study? 

Edgar. How to prevent the fiend and to kill vermin. 
Lear. Let me ask you one word in private. 
Ke7it. Importune him once more to go, my lord; 150 

His wits begin to unsettle. 

Gloster. Canst thou blame him ? 

[Storm still. 
His daughters seek his death. Ah, that good Kent ! 
He said it would be thus, poor banish'd man ! 
Thou say'st the king grows mad ; I '11 tell thee, friend, 
I am almost mad myself. I had a son, 
Now outlaw'd from my blood ; he sought my life, 
But lately, very late. I lov'd him, friend, 
No father his son dearer ; true to tell thee, 
The grief hath craz'd my wits. What a night 's this ! — 
I do beseech your grace, — 



ACT III. SCENE V. 



I05 



Lear. O, cry you mercy, sir. — 160 

Noble philosopher, your company. 

Edgar. Tom 's a-cold. 

Gloster. In, fellow, there, into the hovel; keep thee warm. 

Lear. Come, let 's in all. 

Kent. This way, my lord. 

Lear. With him ; 

I will keep still with my philosopher. 

Kent. Good my lord, soothe him ; let him take the fellow. 

Gloster. Take him you on. 

Kent. Sirrah, come on • go along with us. 

Lear. Come, good Athenian. 

Gloster. No words, no words ; hush ! 170 

Edgar. Child Rowland to the dark tower came; 
His word was still, — Fie, f oh, and f urn, 

L smell the blood of a British man. \Exeunt. 

Scene V. Gloster 's Castle. 
Enter Cornwall and Edmund. 

Cornwall. I will have my revenge ere I depart his house. 

Edmund. How, my lord, I may be censured, that nature 
thus gives way to loyalty, something fears me to think of. 

Cornwall. I now perceive, it was not altogether your broth- 
er's evil disposition made him seek his death, but a provok- 
ing merit, set a-work by a reprovable badness in himself. 

Edmund. How malicious is my fortune, that I must repent 
to be just ! This is the letter he spoke of, which approves 
him an intelligent party to the advantages of France. O 
heavens ! that this treason were not, or not I the detector ! 

Cornwall. Go with me to the duchess. n 

Edmund. If the matter of this paper be certain, you have 
mighty business in hand. 

Cornwall. True or false, it hath made thee earl of Gloster. 
Seek out where thy father is, that he may be ready for our 
apprehension. 



io 6 KING LEAR. 

Edmimd. [Aside] If I find him comforting the king, it will 
stuff his suspicion more fully. — I will persever in my course 
of loyalty, though the conflict be sore between that and my 
blood. 20 

Cornwall. I will lay trust upon thee, and thou shalt find a 
dearer father in my love. [Exeunt. 

Scene VI. A Chamber in a Farmhouse adjoining the Castle. 
Enter Gloster, Lear, Kent, Fool, and Edgar. 

Gloster. Here is better than the open air; take it thank- 
fully. I will piece out the comfort with what addition I can ; 
I will not be long from you. 

Kent. All the power of his wits have given way to his im- 
patience. The gods reward your kindness ! [Exit Gloster. 

Edgar. Frateretto calls me, and tells me Nero is an angler 
in the lake of darkness. — Pray, innocent, and beware the 
foul fiend. 

Fool. Prithee, nuncle, tell me whether a madman be a 
gentleman or a yeoman ? 10 

Lear. A king, a king ! 

Fool. No, he 's a yeoman that has a gentleman to his son ; 
for he 's a mad yeoman that sees his son a gentleman be- 
fore him. 

Lear. To have a thousand with red burning spits 
Come hizzing in upon 'em, — 

Edgar. The foul fiend bites my back. 

Fool. He 's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a 
horse's health, a boy's love, or a whore's oath. 19 

Lear. It shall be done ; I will arraign them straight. — 
[To Edgar] Come, sit thou here, most learned justicer.— 
[To the Fool] Thou, sapient sir, sit here. — Now, you she 
foxes ! 

Edgar. Look, where he stands and glares ! Wantest thou 
eyes at trial, madam ? 



ACT III. SCENE VI. 



107 



Come o'er the bourn, Bessy, to me. 

Fool. Her boat hath a leak, 

And she must not speak 
Why she dares not cotne over to thee. 28 

Edgar. The foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the voice of a 
nightingale. Hoppedance cries in Tom's belly for two white 
herring. Croak not, black angel ; I have no food for thee. 

Kent. How do you, sir ? Stand you not so amaz'd. 
Will you lie down and rest upon the cushions? 

Lear. I '11 see their trial first. — Bring in their evidence. — 
[To Edgar] Thou robed man of justice, take thy place, — 
[To the Tool] x\nd thou, his yoke-fellow of equity, 
Bench by his side. — [To Kent] You are o' the commission, 
Sit you too. 

Edgar. Let us deal justly. 

Sleep est or wakes t thou, jolly shepherd? 40 

Thy sheep be in the corn ; 
And for one blast of thy minikin mouth. 
Thy sheep shall take no harm. 
Pur ! the cat is gray. 

Lear. Arraign her first; 't is Goneril. I here take my 
oath before this honourable assembly, she kicked the poor 
king her father. 

Fool. Come hither, mistress. Is your name Goneril ? 

Lear. She cannot deny it. 

Fool. Cry you mercy, I took you for a joint-stool. 50 

Lear. And here 's another, whose warp'd looks proclaim 
What store her heart is made on. — Stop her there !. 
Arms, arms, sword, fire ! Corruption in the place ! 
False justicer, why hast thou let her scape ? 

Edgar. Bless thy five wits ! 

Kent. O pity! — Sir, where is the patience now, 
That you so oft have boasted to retain ? 

Edgar. [Aside] My tears begin to take his part so much, 
They mar my counterfeiting. 



io 8 KING LEAR. 

Lear. The little dogs and all, 60 

Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart, see, they bark at me. 

Edgar. Tom will throw his head at them. — Avaunt, you 
curs ! 

Be thy mouth or black or white, 
Tooth that poisons if it bite ; 
Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel grim, 
Hound or spaniel, brach or lym, 
Or bobtail tike or trundle-tail, 
Tom will make him weep and wail; 
For, with throwing thus my head, 70 

Dogs leap'd the hatch, and all are fled. 
Do de, de, de. Sessa ! Come, march to wakes and fairs 
and market-towns. Poor Tom, thy horn is dry. 

Lear. Then let them anatomize Regan ; see what breeds 
about her heart. Is there any cause in nature that makes 
these hard hearts? — [To Edgar'] You, sir, I entertain for one 
of my hundred; only I do not like the fashion of your gar- 
ments. You will say they are Persian; but let them be 
changed. 

Kent. Now, good my lord, lie here and rest awhile. 80 

Lear. Make no noise, make no noise; draw the curtains : 
so, so. We '11 go to supper i' the morning. 
Fool. And I '11 go to bed at noon. 

Re-enter Gloster. 

Gloster. Come hither, friend ; where is the king my master ? 

Kent. Here, sir; but trouble him not, his wits are gone. 

Gloster. Good friend, I prithee, take him in thy arms; 
I have o'erheard a plot of death upon him. 
There is a litter ready ; lay him in 't, 
And drive toward Dover, friend, where thou shalt meet 
Both welcome and protection. Take up thy master. 90 

If thou shouldst dally half an hour, his life, 
With thine, and all that offer to defend him, 



ACT III. SCENE VII. I09 

Stand in assured loss. Take up, take up • 
And follow me, that will to some provision 
Give thee quick conduct. 

Kent. Oppress'd nature sleeps. 

This rest might yet have balm'd thy broken sinews, 
Which, if convenience will not allow, 
Stand in hard cure. — [To the Fool'] Come, help to bear thy 

master; 
Thou must not stay behind. 

Gloster. Come, come, away. 

[Exeunt all but Edgar. 

Edgar. When we our betters see bearing our woes, 100 
We scarcely think our miseries our foes. 
Who alone suffers suffers most i' the mind, 
Leaving free things and happy shows behind; 
But then the mind much sufferance doth o'erskip, 
When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship. 
How light and portable my pain seems now, 
When that which makes me bend makes the king bow, 
He childed as I father'd ! Tom, away ! 
Mark the high noises, and thyself bewray, 
When false opinion, whose wrong thoughts defile thee, no 
In thy just proof repeals and reconciles thee. 
What will hap* more to-night, safe scape the king ! 
Lurk, lurk. [Exit. 

Scene VII. Gloster 3 s Castle. 
Enter Cornwall, Regan, Goneril, Edmund, and Servants. 

Cornwall. [To Goneril] Post speedily to my lord your hus- 
band ; show him this letter : the army of France is landed. — 
Seek out the villain Gloster. [Exeunt some of the Servants. 

Regan. Hang him instantly. 

Goneril. Pluck out his eyes. 

Cornwall. Leave him to my displeasure. — Edmund, keep 



IIO jijivut j..j-.sij\. 

you our sister company. The revenges we are bound to take 
upon your traitorous father are not fit for your beholding. 
Advise the duke, where you are going, to a most festinate 
preparation ; we are bound to the like. Our posts shall be 
swift and intelligent betwixt us. — Farewell, dear sister. — 
Farewell, my lord of Gloster. — 12 

Enter Oswald. 

How now ! where 's the king ? 

Oswald. My lord of Gloster hath convey' d him hence. 
Some five or six and thirty of his knights, 
Hot questrists after him, met him at gate; 
Who, with some other of the lord's dependants, 
Are gone with him toward Dover, where they boast 
To have well-armed friends. 

Cornwall. Get horses for your mistress. 

Goneril. Farewell, sweet lord, and sister. 20 

Cornwall. Edmund, farewell. — 

[Exeunt Goneril, Edmund, and Oswald. 
Go seek the traitor Gloster. 
Pinion him like a thief, bring him before us. — 

[Exeunt other Servants. 
Though well we may not pass upon his life 
Without the form of justice, yet our power 
Shall do a courtesy to our wrath, which men 
May blame but not control. — Who 's there ? the traitor ? 

Enter Gloster, brought in by two or three. 

Regan. Ingrateful fox ! 't is he. 
Cornwall. Bind fast his corky arms. 

Gloster. What means your graces ? — Good my friends, 
consider 
You are my guests ; do me no foul play, friends. 30 

Cornwall. Bind him, I say. 
Regan. Hard, hard. — O filthy traitor ! 



ACT III. SCENE VII. In 

Gloster. Unmerciful lady as you are, I 'm none. 

Cornwall. To this chair bind him. — Villain, thou shalt 
find — [Regan plucks his beard. 

Gloster. By the kind gods, 't is most ignobly done 
To pluck me by the beard. 

Regan. So white, and such a traitor ! 

Gloster. Naughty lady, 

These hairs, which thou dost ravish from my chin 
Will quicken and accuse thee. I am your host; 
With robbers' hands my hospitable favours 
You should not ruffle thus. What will you do ? 40 

Cornwall. Come, sir, what letters had you late from 
France ? 

Regan. Be simple-answer'd, for we know the truth. 

Cornwall. And what confederacy have you with the traitors 
Late footed in the kingdom ? 

Regan. To whose hands have you sent the lunatic king? 
Speak. 

Gloster. I have a letter guessingly set down, 
Which came from one that 's of a neutral heart, 
And not from one oppos'd. 

Cornwall. Cunning. 

Regan. And false. 

Cornwall. Where hast thou sent the king? 

Gloster. To Dover. 

Regan. Wherefore to Dover. Wast thou not charg'd at 
peril— SI 

Cornwall. Wherefore to Dover? — Let him first answer 
that. 

Gloster. I am tied to the stake, and I must stand the 
course. 

Regan. Wherefore to Dover? 

Gloster. Because I would not see thy cruel nails 
Pluck out his poor old eyes, nor thy fierce sister 
In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs. 



II2 KING LEAR. 

The sea, with such a storm as his bare head 

In hell-black night endur'd, would have buoy'd up, 

And quench'd the stelled fires ; 60 

Yet, poor old heart, he holp the heavens to rain. 

If wolves had at thy gate howl'd that stern time, 

Thou shouldst have said, ' Good porter, turn the key, 

All cruels else subscribe.' But I shall see 

The winged vengeance overtake such children. 

Cornwall. See 't shalt thou never. — Fellows, hold the 
chair. — 
Upon these eyes of thine I '11 set my foot. 

Gloster. He that will think to live till he be old, 
Give me some help ! — O cruel ! O you gods ! 

Regan. One side will mock another; the other too. 70 

Cornwall. If you see vengeance — 

1 Servant. Hold your hand, my lord ! 

I have serv'd you ever since I was a child; 
But better service have I never done you 
Than now to bid you hold. 

Regan. How now, you dog ! 

1 Servant. If you did wear a beard upon your chin, 
I 'd shake it on this quarrel. What do you mean ? 

Cornwall. My villain ! [They draw andjight. 

1 Servant. Nay, then, come on, and take the chance of 
anger. 78 

Regan. Give me thy sword. — A peasant stand up thus ! 

[ Takes a sword, and runs at him behind. 

1 Servant. O, I am slain ! — My, lord, you have one eye left 
To see some mischief on him. — O ! [Dies. 

Cornwall. Lest it see more, prevent it. — Out, vile jelly ! 
Where is thy lustre now ? 

Gloster. All dark and comfortless. — Where 's my son Ed- 
mund ? — 
Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature, 
To quit this horrid act. 



ACT III. SCENE VII. 



"3 



Regan. Out, treacherous villain ! 

Thou call'st on him that hates thee; it was he 
That made the overture of thy treasons to us, 
Who is too good to pity thee. 

Gloster. O my follies ! then Edgar was abus'd. — 90 

Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him ! 

Regan. Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell 
His way to Dover. — [Exit one with Gloster. ~\ How is 't my 
lord ? how look you ? 

Cornwall. I have receiv'd a hurt ; follow me, lady. — 
Turn out that eyeless villain; throw this slave 
Upon the dunghill. — Regan, I bleed apace; 
Untimely comes this hurt. Give me your arm. 

[Exit Cornwall, led by Regan. 

2 Servant. I '11 never care what wickedness I do, 
If this man come to good. 

3 Servant. If she live long, 

And in the end meet the old course of death, 100 

Women will all turn monsters. 

2 Servant. Let 's follow the old earl, and get the Bedlam 
To lead him where he would ; his roguish madness 
Allows itself to any thing. 

3 Servant. Go thou. I '11 fetch some flax and. whites of 

eggs 
To apply to his bleeding face. Now, heaven help him ! 

[Exeunt severally. 




H 




DOVER CLIFF. 



ACT IV. 

Scene I. The Heath. 
Enter Edgar. 

Edgar. Yet better thus, and known to be contemn'd. 
Than still contemn'd and flatter'd. To be worst, 
The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune, 
Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear. 
The lamentable change is from the best; 
The worst returns to laughter. Welcome, then, 
Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace ! 
The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worst 
Owes nothing to thy blasts. — But who comes here ? 

Enter Gloster, led by an Old Man. 
My father, poorly led? — World, world, O world ! 



ACT IV. SCENE I. 



"5 



But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee, 
Life would not yield to age. 

Old Matt. O my good lord, 

I have been your tenant, and your father's tenant, 
These fourscore years. 

Gloster. Away, get thee away; good friend, be gone. 
Thy comforts can do me no good at all; 
Thee they may hurt. 

Old Man. You cannot see your way. 

Gloster. I have no way, and therefore want no eyes ; 
I stumbled when I saw. Full oft 't is seen, 
Our means secure us, and our mere defects 20 

Prove our commodities. — O dear son Edgar, 
The food of thy abused father's wrath ! 
Might I but live to see thee in my touch, 
I 'd say I had eyes again ! 

Old Matt. How now ! Who's there? 

Edgar. [Aside] O gods ! Who is 't can say ' I am at the 
worst ?' 
I am worse than e'er I was. 

Old Man. 'T is poor mad Tom. 

Edgar. [Aside] And worse I may be yet ; the worst is not 
So long as we can say 'This is the worst.' 

Old Man. Fellow, where goest ? 

Gloster. Is it a beggar-man ? 

Old Man. Madman and beggar too. 30 

Gloster. He has some reason, else he could not beg. 
I' the last night's storm I such a fellow saw, 
Which made me think a man a worm. My son 
Came then into my mind, and yet my mind 
Was then scarce friends with him. I have heard more 

since. 
As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; 
They kill us for their sport. 

Edgar. [Aside] How should this be ? 



n6 



KING IEAR. 



Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow. 



A 



iff itself and others. — Bless thee, master ! 



igerm^ 

Gloster. Is that the naked fellow ? 
Old Man. Ay, my lord. 4 o 

Gloster. Then, prithee, get thee gone. If for my sake 
Thou wilt o'ertake us hence a mile or twain 
I' the way toward Dover, do it for ancient love; 
And bring some covering for this naked soul, 
Which I '11 entreat to lead me. 

Old Man. Alack, sir, he is mad. 

Gloster. 'T is the times' plague, when madmen lead the 
blind. 
Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure; 
Above the rest, be gone. 

Old Man. I '11 bring him the best 'parel that I have, 
Come on 't what will. [Exit. 

Gloster. Sirrah, naked fellow, — 51 

Edgar. Poor Tom 's a-cold. — [Aside] I cannot daub it 

further. 
Gloster. Come hither, fellow. 
Edgar. [Aside] And yet I must. — Bless thy sweet eyes, 

they bleed. 
Gloster. Know'st thou the way to Dover ? 
Edgar. Both stile and gate, horse-way and footpath. Poor 
Tom hath been scared out of his good wits. Bless thee, 
good man's son, from the foul fiend ! Five fiends have been 
in poor Tom at once; of lust, as Obidicut; Hobbiclidence, 
prince of dumbness; Mahu, of stealing; Modo, ofmurther; 
Flibbertigibbet, of mopping and mowing, who since possesses 
chambermaids and waiting-women. So, bless thee, master ! 
Gloster. Here, take this purse, thou whom the heaven's 
plagues 63 

Have humbled to all strokes; that I am wretched 
Makes thee the happier. — Heavens, deal so still ! 
Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man, 



ACT IV. SCENE II. H 7 

That slaves your ordinance, that will not see 

Because he does not feel, feel your power quickly; 

So distribution should undo excess, 

And each man have enough. — Dost thou know Dover? 70 

Edgar. Ay, master. 

Gloster. There is a cliff whose high and bending head 
Looks fearfully in the confined deep : 
Bring me but to the very brim of it, 
And I '11 repair the misery thou dost bear 
With something rich about me ; from that place 
I shall no leading need. 

Edgar. Give me thy arm ; 

Poor Tom shall lead thee. [Exeunt. 

Scene II. Before the Duke of Albany 's Palace. 
Enter Goneril and Edmund. 

Goneril. Welcome, my lord ; I marvel our mild husband 
Not met us on the way. — 

Enter Oswald. 

Now, where 's your master?, 
Oswald. Madam, within; but never man so chang'd. 

I told him of the army that was landed; 

He smil'd at it. I told him you were coming; 

His answer was, ' The worse.' Of Gloster's treachery, 

And of the loyal service of his son , 

When I inform'd him, then he call'd me sot, 

And told me I had turn'd the wrong side out. 

What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him ; 10 

What like, offensive. 

Goneril. [To Edmund] Then shall you go no further. 

It is the cowish terror of his spirit, 

That dares not undertake ; he '11 not feel wrongs 

Which tie him to an answer. Our wishes on the way 



II< 



KING LEAR. 



May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother; 

Hasten his musters and conduct his powers. 

I must change arms at home, and give the distaff 

Into my husband's hands. This trusty servant 

Shall pass between us ; ere long you are like to hear, 

If you dare venture in your own behalf, 20 

A mistress's command. Wear this; spare speech. 

[Giving a favour. 
Decline your head; this kiss, if it durst speak, 
Would stretch thy spirits up into the air. 
Conceive, and fare thee well. 

Edmund. Yours in the ranks of death. 

Go7ieril. My most dear Gloster ! 

[Exit Edmund. 
O, the difference of man and man ! 
To thee a woman's services are due ; 
My fool usurps my body. 

Oswald. Madam, here comes my lord. 

[Exit. 
Enter Albany. 

Goneril. I have been worth the whistle. 

Albany. O Goneril ! 

You are not worth the dust which the rude wind 30 

Blows in your face. I fear your disposition. 
That nature which contemns it origin 
Cannot be border'd certain in itself; 
She that herself will sliver and disbranch 
From her material sap, perforce must wither 
And come to deadly use. 

Goneril. No more ; the text is foolish. 

Albany. Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile; 
Filths savour but themselves. What have you done ? 
Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform'd ? 40 

A father, and a gracious aged man, 
Whose reverence even the head-lugg'd bear would lick, 



ACT IV. SCENE II. 



119 



Most barbarous, most degenerate ! have you madded. 

Could my good brother suffer you to do it ? • 

A man, a prince, by him so benefited ! 

If that the heavens do not their visible spirits 

Send quickly down to tame these vile offences, 

It will come, 

Humanity must perforce prey on itself, 

Like monsters of the deep. 

Goneril. Milk-liver'd man ! 50 

That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs ; 
Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning 
Thine honour from thy suffering; that not know'st 
Fools do those villains pity who are punish'd 
Ere they have done their mischief, — where 's thy drum ? 
France spreads his banners in our noiseless land, 
With plumed helm thy state begins to threat, 
Whilst thou, a moral fool, sit'st still and criest 
' Alack, why does he so ?' 

Albany. See thyself, devil ! 

Proper deformity seems not in the fiend 60 

So horrid as in woman. 

Goneril. O vain fool ! 

Albany. Thou changed and self-cover'd thing, for shame, 
Be-monster not thy feature. Were 't my fitness 
To let these hands obey my blood, 
They are apt enough to dislocate and tear 
Thy flesh and bones. Howe'er thou art a fiend, 
A woman's shape doth shield thee. 

Goneril. Marry, your manhood now ! — ■ 

Enter a Messenger. 

Albany. What news ? 

Messenger. O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall 's dead ; 
Slain by his servant, going to put out 71 

The other eye of Gloster. 



KING LEAR. 

Albany. Gloster 

Messenger. A servant that he bred, thrill'd with remorse, 
Oppos'd against the act, bending his sword 
To his great master; who thereat enrag'd 
Flew on him and amongst them fell'd him dead, 
But not without that harmful stroke which since 
Hath pluck'd him after. 

Albany. This shows you are above, 

You justicers, that these our nether crimes 
So speedily can venge ! — But, O poor Gloster ! So 

Lost he his other eye ? 

Messenger. Both, both, my lord. — 

This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer; 
'T is from your sister. 

Goneril. [Aside] One way I like this well ; 

But being widow, and my Gloster with her, 
May all the building in my fancy pluck 
Upon my hateful life : another way, 
The news is not so tart. — I '11 read, and answer. [Exit. 

Albany. Where was his son when they did take his eyes ? 

Messenger. Come with my lady hither. 

Albany. He is not here. 

Messenger. No, my good lord ; I met him back again. 90 

Albany. Knows he the wickedness ? 

Messenger. Ay, my good lord; 't was he inform'd against 
him, 
And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment 
Might have the freer course. 

Albany. Gloster, I live 

To thank thee for the love thou show'dst the king, 
And to revenge thine eyes. — Come hither, friend; 
Tell me what more thou know'st. [Exeunt. 



ACT IV. SCENE III. I2 i 



Scene III. The French Camp near Dover. 
Enter Kent and a Gentleman. 

Kent. Why the King of France is so suddenly gone back, 
know you the reason ? 

Gentleman. Something he left imperfect in the state which 
since his coming forth is thought of, which imports to the 
kingdom so much fear and danger that his personal return 
was most required and necessary. 

Kent. Who hath he left behind him general ? 

Gentleman. The Marshal of France, Monsieur La Far. 

Kent. Did your letters pierce the queen to any demonstra- 
tion of grief? 10 

Gentleman. Ay, sir; she took them, read them in my pres- 
ence, 
And now and then an ample tear trill'd down 
Her delicate cheek. It seem'd she was a queen 
Over her passion, who most rebel-like 
Sought to be king o'er her. 

Kent. O, then it mov'd her. 

Gentleman. Not to a rage; patience and sorrow strove 
Who should express her goodliest. You have seen 
Sunshine and rain at once : her smiles and tears 
Were like a better way ; those happy smilets, 
That play'd on her ripe lip, seem'd not to know 20 

What guests were in her eyes, which parted thence 
As pearls from diamonds dropp'd. In brief, 
Sorrow would be a rarity most belov'd, 
If all could so become it. 

Kent. ■ Made she no verbal question ? 

Gentleman. Faith, once or twice she heav'd the name of 
father 
Pantingly forth, as if it press'd her heart; 
Cried ' Sisters ! sisters ! Shame of ladies ! sisters ! 



I22 KING IEAR. 

Kent ! father ! sisters ! What, i' the storm ? i' the night ? 

Let pity not be believ'd !' There she shook 

The holy water from her heavenly eyes, 30 

And, clamour-moisten'd, then away she started 

To deal with grief alone. 

Kent. It is the stars, 

The stars above us, govern our conditions ; 
Else one self mate and mate-could not beget 
Such different issues. — You spoke not with her since? 

Gentleman. No. 

Kent. Was this before the king return'd ? 

Gentleman. No, since. 

Kent. Well, sir, the poor distressed Lear 's i' the town ; 
Who sometime in his better tune remembers 
What we are come about, and by no means 4 o 

Will yield to see his daughter. 

Gentleman. Why, good sir? 

Kent. A sovereign shame so elbows him ; his own unkind- 
ness, 
That stripp'd her from his benediction, turn'd her 
To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights 
To his dog-hearted daughters, — these things sting 
His mind so venomously that burning shame 
Detains him from Cordelia. 

Gentleman. Alack, poor gentleman ! 

Kent. Of Albany's and Cornwall's powers you heard not? 

Gentlema7i. 'T is so, they are afoot. 

Kent. Well, sir, I 'll bring you to our master Lear, 50 

And leave you to attend him. Some dear cause 
Will in concealment wrap me up awhile ; 
When I am known aright, you shall not grieve 
Lending me this acquaintance. I pray you, go 
Along with me. [Exeunt. 



ACT IV. SCENE IV. I23 



Scene IV. The Same. A Tent 
Enter, with drum and colours, Cordelia, Doctor, and 

Soldiers. 

Cordelia. Alack, 't is he ! Why, he was met even now 
As mad as the vex'd sea; singing aloud; 
Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds, 
With burdocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, 
Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow 
In our sustaining corn. — A century send forth; 
Search every acre in the high-grown field, 
And bring him to our eye. — [Exit an Officer.'] What can 

man's wisdom 
In the restoring his bereaved sense ? 
He that helps him take all my outward worth. 10 

Doctor. There is means, madam. 
Our foster-nurse of nature is repose, 
The which he lacks ; that to provoke in him, 
Are many simples operative, whose power 
Will close the eye of anguish. 

Cordelia. All blest secrets, 

All you unpublish'd virtues of the earth, 
Spring with my tears ! be aidant and remediate 
In the good man's distress ! Seek, seek for him, 
Lest his ungovern'd rage dissolve the life 
That wants the means to lead it. 

Enter a Messenger. 

Messenger. News, madam ; 20 

The British powers are marching hither ward. 

Cordelia. T is known before; our preparation stands 
In expectation of them. — O dear father, 
It is thy business that I go about ; 
Therefore great France 



124 



KING LEAR. 



My mourning and important tears hath pitied. 

No blown ambition doth our arms incite, 

But love, dear love, and our aged father's right; 

Soon may I hear and see him ! \Exennt. 

Scene V. G 'tester's Castle. 
Enter Regan and Oswald. 

Regan. But are my brother's powers set forth ? 

Oswald. Ay, madam. 

Regan. Himself in person there ? 

Oswald. Madam, with much ado ; 

Your sister is the better soldier. 

Regan. Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at home ? 

Oswald. No, madam. 

Regan. What might import my sister's letter to him ? 

Oswald. I know not, lady. 

Regan. Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter. 
It was great ignorance, Gloster's eyes being out, 
To let him live ; where he arrives he moves 10 

All hearts against us. Edmund, I think, is gone, 
In pity of his misery, to dispatch 
His nighted life ; moreover, to descry 
The strength o' the enemy. 

Oswald. I must needs after him, madam, with my letter. 

Regan. Our troops set forth to-morrow; stay with us. 
The wavs are dangerous. 

Oswald. I may not, madam; 

My lady charg'd my duty in this business. 

Regan. Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you 
Transport her purposes by word ? Belike, 20 

Some things — I know not what. I '11 love thee much, — 
Let me unseal the letter. 

Oswald. Madam, I had rather — 

Regan. I know your lady does not love her husband, 



ACT IV. SCENE VI. 125 

I am sure of that; and at her late being here 

She gave strange oeillades and most speaking looks 

To noble Edmund. I know you are of her bosom. 

Oswald. I, madam ? 

Regan. I speak in understanding; you are, I know 't. 
Therefore I do advise you, take this note : 
My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk'd, 30 

And more convenient is he for my hand 
Than for your lady's: you may gather more. 
If you do find him, pray you, give him this; 
And when your mistress hears thus much from you, 
I pray, desire her call her wisdom to her. 
So, fare you well. 

If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor, 
Preferment falls on him that cuts him off. 

'Osivald. Would I could meet him, madam ! I should show 
What party I do follow. 

Regan. Fare thee well. [Exeunt. 

Scene VI. Fields near Dover. 
Enter Gloster, and Edgar dressed like a peasant. 

Gloster. When shall I come to the top of that same hill? 

Edgar. You do climb up it now ; look, how we labour. 

Gloster. Methinks the ground is even. 

Edgar. Horrible steep. 

Hark, do you hear the sea ? 

Gloster. No, truly. 

Edgar. Why, then, your other senses grow imperfect 
By your eyes' anguish. 

Gloster. So may it be indeed; 

Methinks thy voice is alter'd, and thou speak'st 
In better phrase and matter than thou didst. 

Edgar. You're much deceiv'd ; in nothing am I chang'd 
But in my garments. 



I2 6 KING LEAR. 

Gloster. Methinks you 're better-spoken. 10 

Edgar. Come on, sir; here's the place. Stand still. How 
fearful 
And dizzy 't is to cast one's eyes so low ! 
The crows and choughs that wing the midway air 
Show scarce so gross as beetles. Half way down 
Hangs one that gathers sampire, dreadful trade ! 
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head. 
The fishermen that walk upon the beach 
Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark 
Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy 
Almost too small for sight. The murmuring surge, 20 

That on the unnumber'd idle pebble chafes, 
Cannot be heard so high. I '11 look no more, 
Lest my brain turn and the deficient sight 
Topple down headlong. 

Gloster. Set me where you stand. 

Edgar. Give me your hand. You are now within a foot 
Of the extreme verge. For all beneath the moon 
Would I not leap upright. 

Gloster. Let go my hand. 

Here, friend, 's another purse; in it a jewel 
Well worth a poor man's taking : fairies and gods 
Prosper it with thee ! Go thou further off; 30 

Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going. 

Edgar. Now fare ye well, good sir. 

Gloster. With all my heart. 

Edgar. [Aside] Why I do trifle thus with his despair 
Is done to cure it. 

Gloster. [Kneeling.] O you mighty gods ! 
This world I do renounce, and in your sights 
Shake patiently my great affliction off. 
If I could bear it longer, and not fall 
To quarrel with your great opposeless wills, 
My snuff and loathed part of nature should 



ACT IV. SCENE VI. 12 y 

Burn itself out. If Edgar live, bless him ! 4 o 

Now, fellow, fare thee well. 

Edgar. Gone, sir; farewell. 

[He falls forward. 
[Aside] And yet I know not how conceit may rob 
The treasury of life, when life itself 
Yields to the theft. Had he been where he thought, 
By this had thought been past. Alive or dead ? — 
Ho, you sir ! friend ! Hear you, sir ! speak ! — 
[Aside] Thus might he pass indeed; yet he revives. — 
What are you, sir ? 

Gloster. Away, and let me die. 

Edgar. Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air, 
So many fathom down precipitating, 5 o 

Thou 'dst shiver'd like an egg; but thou dost breathe, 
Hast heavy substance, bleed'st not, speak'st, art sound. 
Ten masts at each make not the altitude 
Which thou hast perpendicularly fell; 
Thy life 's a miracle. Speak yet again. 

Gloster. But have I fall'n, or no ? 

Edgar. From the dread summit of this chalky bourn. 
Look up a-height; the shrill-gorg'd lark so far 
Cannot be seen or heard. Do but look up. 

Gloster. Alack, I have no eyes. 60 

Is wretchedness depriv'd that benefit, 
To end itself by death ? 'T was yet some comfort, 
When misery could beguile the tyrant's rage, 
And frustrate his proud will. 

Edgar. Give me your arm. 

Up ; so. How is 't ? Feel you your legs ? You stand. 

Gloster. Too well, too well. 

Edgar. This is above all strangeness. 

Upon the crown o' the cliff, what thing was that 
Which parted from you ? 

Gloster. A poor unfortunate beggar. 



I2 8 KING LEAR. 

Edgar. As I stood here below, methought his eyes 
Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses, 70 

Horns whelk'd and wav'd like the enridged sea. 
It was some fiend; therefore, thou happy father, 
Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours 
Of men's impossibilities, have preserv'd thee. 

Gloster. I do remember now. Henceforth I '11 bear 
Affliction till it do cry out itself 

' Enough, enough,' and die. That thing you speak of, 
I took it for a man ; often 't would say 
'The fiend, the fiend :' he led me to that place. 

Edgar. Bear free and patient thoughts. — But who comes 
here ? 80 

Enter Lear, fantastically dressed with wild flowers. 

The safer sense will ne'er accommodate 
His master thus. 

Lear. No, they cannot touch me for coining; I am the 
king himself. 

Edgar. O thou side-piercing sight ! 

Lear. Nature 's above art in that respect. — There 's your 
press -money. — That fellow handles his bow like a crow- 
keeper. — Draw me a clothier's yard. — Look, look, a mouse ! 
Peace, peace; this piece of toasted cheese will do 't. — There 
's my gauntlet; I '11 prove it on a giant. — Bring up the brown 
bills. — O, well flown, bird ! i' the clout, i' the clout! hewgh! 
■ — Give the word. 92 

Edgar. Sweet marjoram. 

Lear. Pass. 

Gloster. I know that voice. 

Lear. Ha ! Goneril, — with a white beard ! — They flattered 
me like a dog; and told me I had white hairs in my beard 
ere the black ones were there. To say ay and no to every 
thing that I said ! Ay and no too was no good divinity. 
When the rain came to wet me once and the wind to make 



red 



ACT IV. SCENE VI. I2y 

me chatter, when the thunder would not peace at my bid- 
ding, there I found 'em, there I smelt 'em out. Go to, they 
are not men o' their words : they told me I was every thing; 
't is a lie, I am not ague-proof. 104 

Gloster. The trick of that voice I do well remember. 
Is 't not the king? 

Lear. Ay, every inch a king. 

When I do stare, see how the subject quakes. — 
I pardon that man's life. — What was thy cause? 
Adultery? 

Thou shalt not die. Die for adultery? No; no 

For Gloster's bastard son 

Was kinder to his father than my daughters. — 
Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my 
imagination ; there 's money for thee. 

Gloster. O, let me kiss that hand ! 

Lear. Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality. 

Gloster. O ruin'd piece of nature ! This great world 
Shall so wear out to nought. Dost thou know me ? 

Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou 
squiny at me ? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid ; I '11 not love. 
Read thou this challenge; mark but the penning of it. 121 

Gloster. Were all thy letters suns, I could not see. 

Edgar. [Aside] I would not take this from report; it is, 
And my heart breaks at it. 

Lear. Read. 

Gloster. What, with the case of eyes ? 

Lear. O, ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your 
head, nor no money in your purse? Your eyes are in a 
heavy case, your purse in a light; yet you see how this world 
goes. 130 

Gloster. I see it feelingly. 

Lear. What, art mad? A man may see how this world 
goes with no eyes. Look, with thine ears ; see how yond 
justice rails upon yond simple thief. Hark, in thine ear; 

I 



I3 o KING LEAR. 

change places, and, handy-dandy, which is the justice, which 
is the thief? Thou hast seen a farmer's dog bark at a 
beggar ? 

Gloster. Ay, sir. 

Lear. And the creature run from the cur? There thou 
mightst behold the great image of authority; a dog's obeyed 
in office. — 141 

The usurer hangs the cozener. 
Through tatter'd clothes great vices do appear; 
Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold, 
And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks; 
Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw does pierce it. 
None does offend, none, I say, none; I '11 able 'em : 
Take that of me, my friend, who have the power 
To seal the accuser's lips. Get thee glass eyes; 
And, like a scurvy politician, seem 150 

To see the things thou dost not. — 
Now, now, now, now ; pull off my boots. Harder, harder ; so. 

Edgar. [Aside] O, matter and impertinency mix'd ! 
Reason in madness ! 

Lear. If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes. 
I know thee well enough; thy name is Gloster. 
Thou must be patient ; we came crying hither. 
Thou know'st, the first time that we smell the air, 
We wawl and cry. I will preach to thee; mark. 

Gloster. Alack, alack the day ! 160 

Lear. When we are born, we cry that we are come 
To this great stage of fools. This' a good block ; 
It were a delicate stratagem, to shoe 
A troop of horse with felt. I '11 put 't in proof; 
And when I have stol'n upon these sons-in-law, 
Then, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill ! 

Enter a Gentleman, with Attendants. 

Gentleman. O, here he is; lay hand upon him. — Sir, 
Your most dear daughter — 



ACT IV. SCENE VI. I3I 

Lear. No rescue ? What, a prisoner ? I am even 
The natural fool of fortune. Use me well; i 7 o 

You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons; 
I am cut to the brains. 

Gentleman. You shall have any thing. 

Lear. No seconds? all myself? 
Why, this would make a man a man of salt, 
To use his eyes for garden water-pots, 
Ay, and laying autumn's dust. 

Gentleman. Good sir, — 

Lear. I will die bravely, like a smug bridegroom. What ! 
I will be jovial. Come, come; I am a king, 
My masters, know you that ? i3o 

Gentleman. You are a royal one, and we obey you. 

Lear. Then there 's life in 't. Come, an you get it, you 
shall get it by running. Sa, sa, sa, sa. 

[Exit running; Attendants follow. 

Gentlemaji. A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch, 
Past speaking of in a king ! Thou hast one daughter, 
Who redeems nature from the general curse 
Which twain have brought her to. 

Edgar. Hail, gentle sir. 

Gentleman. Sir, speed you ; what 's your will ? 

Edgar. Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward ? 

Gentleman. Most sure and vulgar; every one hears that, 
Which can distinguish sound. 

Edgar. But, by your favour, 191 

How near 's the other army ? 

Gentlema?i. Near and on speedy foot; the main descry 
Stands on the hourly thought. 

Edgar. I thank you, sir ; that 's all. 

Gentleman. Though that the queen on special cause is 
here, 
Her army is mov'd on. 

Edgar. I thank you, sir. [Exit Gentleman, 



KING LEAR. 

Gloster. You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me ; 
Let not my worser spirit tempt me again 
To die before you please ! 

Edgar. Well pray you, father. 

Gloster. Now, good sir, what are you? 2o< 

Edgar. A most poor man, made tame to fortune's blows, 
Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows, 
Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand, 
I '11 lead you to some biding. 

Gloster. ■ Hearty thanks; 

The bounty and the benison of heaven 
To boot, and boot ! 

Enter Oswald. 

Oswald. A proclaim'd prize ! Most happy ! 

That eyeless head of thine was first fram'd flesh 
To raise my fortunes. — Thou old unhappy traitor, 
Briefly thyself remember ; the sword is out 
That must destroy thee. 

Gloster. Now let thy friendly hand 210 

Put strength enough to 't. [Edgar interposes. 

Oswald. Wherefore, bold peasant, 

Barest thou support a publish'd traitor? Hence ! 
Lest that the infection of his fortune take 
Like hold on thee. Let go his arm. 

Edgar. Chill not let go, zir, without vurther 'casion. 

Osivald. Let go, slave, or thou diest! 

Edgar. Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor volk 
pass. An chud ha' bin zwaggered out of my life, 't would not 
ha' bin zo long as 't is by a vortnight. Nay, come not near 
th' old man ; keep out, che vor ye, or ise try whether your 
costard or my ballow be the harder; chill be plain with you. 

Oswald. Out, dunghill ! [They fight. 

Edgar. Chill pick your teeth, zir. Come ; no matter vor 
your foins. [Oswald falls. 



ACT IV. SCENE VI. 133 

Oswald. Slave, thou hast slain me. Villain, take my purse : 
If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body, 226 

And give the letters which thou find'st about me 
To Edmund earl of Gloster; seek him out 
Upon the English party. O, untimely death ! 
Death ! [Dies. 

Edgar. I know thee well ; a serviceable villain, 231 

As duteous to the vices of thy mistress 
As badness would desire. 

Gloster. What, is he dead ? 

Edgar. Sit you clown, father; rest you. — 
Let 's see these pockets ; the letters that he speaks of 
May be my friends. He 's dead; I am only sorry 
He had no other deaths-man. Let us see : 
Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not. 
To know our enemies' minds, we 'd rip their hearts; 
Their papers, is more lawful. 240 

[Reads] ' Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. You have 
many opportunities to cut him off; if your will want not, time 
and place will be fruitfully offered. There is nothing done, if 
he return the conqueror: then am I the prisoner, and his bed 
my gaol; from the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and sup- 
ply the place for your labour. 

1 Your — wife, so L would say — affectionate servant, 

'GONERIL.' 

O indistinguish'd space of woman's will ! 

A plot upon her virtuous husband's life ! 250 

And the exchange my brother ! — Here, in the sands, 

Thee I '11 rake up, the post unsanctified 

Of murtherous lechers; and in the mature time 

With this ungracious paper strike the sight 

Of the death-practis'd duke. For him 't is well 

That of thy death and business I can tell. 

Gloster. The king is mad. How stiff is my vile sense, 
That I stand up, and have ingenious feeling 



!34 



KING LEAR. 



Of my huge sorrows ! Better I were distract; 

So should my thoughts be sever'd from my griefs, 260 

And woes by wrong imaginations lose 

The knowledge of themselves. [Drum afar off. 

Edgar. Give me your hand; 

Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum. 
Come, father, I '11 bestow you with a friend. [Exeunt. 

Scene VII. A Tent in the French Camp. Lear on a bed 
asleep, soft music playing ; Gentleman and others attending. 

Enter Cordelia, Kent, and Doctor. 

Cordelia. O thou good Kent, how shall I live and work, 
To match thy goodness ? My life will be too short, 
And every measure fail me. 

Kent. To be acknowledg'd, madam, is o'er-paid. 
All my reports go with the modest truth, 
Nor more nor clipp'd, but so. 

Cordelia. Be better suited; 

These weeds are memories of those worser hours. , 
I prithee, put them off. 

Kent. Pardon, dear madam ; 

Yet to be known shortens my made intent. 
My boon I make it, that you know me not 10 

Till time and I think meet. 

Cordelia. Then be 't so, my good lord. — How does the king ? 

Doctor. Madam, sleeps still. 

Cordelia. O you kind gods, 
Cure this great breach in his abused nature ! 
The untun'd and jarring senses, O, wind up 
Of this child-changed father ! 

Doctor. So please your majesty 

That we may wake the king ? he hath slept long. 

Cordelia. Be govern'd by your knowledge, and proceed 
I' the sway of your own will. — Is he array'd ? 20 



ACT IV. SCENE VII. 



r 35 



Ge?itleman. Ay, madam • in the heaviness of sleep 
We put fresh garments on him. ' 

Doctor. Be by, good madam, when we do awake him; 
I doubt not of his temperance. 

Cordelia. Very well. 

Doctor. Please you, draw near. — Louder the music there ! 

Cordelia. O my clear father ! Restoration hang 
Thy medicine on my lips, and let this kiss 
Repair those violent harms that my two sisters 
Have in thy reverence made ! 

Kent. Kind and clear princess ! 

Cordelia. Had you not been their father, these white flakes 
Did challenge pity of them. Was this a face 31 

To be oppos'd against the warring winds? 
To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder? 
In the most terrible and nimble stroke 
Of quick, cross lightning? to watch — poor perdu ! — 
With this thin helm ? Mine enemy's dog, 
Though he had bit me, should have stood that night 
Against my fire ; and wast thou fain, poor father, 
To hovel thee with swine and rogues forlorn, 
In short and musty straw ? Alack, alack ! 40 

'T is wonder that thy life and wits at once 
Had not concluded all. — He wakes; speak to him. 

Doctor. Madam, do you; .'t is fittest. 

Cordelia. How does my royal lord ? How fares your 
majesty ? 

Lear. You do me wrong to take me out o' the grave. 
Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound 
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears 
Do scald like molten lead. 

Cordelia. Sir, do you know me ? 

Lear. You are a spirit, I know; when did you die? 

Cordelia. Still, still, far wide ! 50 

Doctor. He 's. scarce awake; let him alone awhile. 



136 



KING LEAR. 



Lear. Where have I been ? Where am I ? Fair day- 
light ? 
I am mightily abus'd. I should e'en die with pity, 
To see another thus. I know not what to say. 
I will not swear these are my hands. Let 's see; 
I feel this pin prick. Would I were assur'd 
Of my condition ! 

Cordelia. O, look upon me, sir, 

And hold your hands in benediction o'er me. 
No, sir, you must not kneel. 

Lear. Pray, do not mock me. 

I am a very foolish fond old man, 60 

Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less; 
And, to deal plainly, 
I fear I am not in my perfect mind. 
Methinks I should know you and know this man; 
Yet I am doubtful : for I am mainly ignorant 
What place this is, and all the skill I have 
Remembers not these garments, nor I know not 
Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me; 
For, as I am a man, I think this lady 
To be my child Cordelia. 

Cordelia. And so I am, I am. 70 

Lear. Be your tears wet ? yes, faith. I pray, weep not. 
If you have poison for me, I will drink it. 
I know you do not love me, for your sisters 
Have, as I do remember, done me wrong; 
You have some cause, they have not. 

Cordelia. No cause, no cause. 

Lear. Am I in France ? 

Kent. In your own kingdom, sir. 

Lear. Do not abuse me. 

Doctor. Be comforted, good madam : the great rage, 
You see, is kill'd in him; and yet 't is clanger 
To make him even o'er the time he has lost. 80 



ACT IV. SCENE VII. 



J37 



Desire him to go in ; trouble him no more 
Till further settling. 

Cordelia. Will 't please your highness walk? 

Lear. You must bear with me. Pray you now, forget and 
forgive; I am old and foolish. 

\Exeiint all but Kent and Gentleman. 

Gentleman. Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of Cornwall 
was so slain ? 

Kent. Most certain, sir. 

Gentleman. Who is conductor of his people ? 

Kent. As 't is said, the bastard son of Gloster. 9 o 

Gentleman. They say Edgar, his banished son, is with the 
Earl of Kent in Germany. 

Kent. Report is changeable. 'T is time to look about; 
the powers of the kingdom approach apace. 

Gentleman. The arbitrement is like to be bloody. Fare 
you well, sir. \Exit. 

Kent. My point and period will be throughly wrought, 
Or well or ill, as this day's battle 's fought. [Exit. 





DOVER CASTLE IN THE TIME OF ELIZABETH. 



j^P^'^/ 



ACT V. 

Scene I. The British Camp, near Dover. 

Enter ; with drum and colours, Edmund, Regan, Gentlemen, 

and Soldiers. 

Edmund. Know of the duke if his last purpose hold, 
Or whether since he is advis'd by aught 
To change the course. He 's full of alteration 
And self-reproving. Bring his constant pleasure. 

[To a Gentleman, who goes out. 

Regan. Our sister's man is certainly miscarried. 

Edmund. 'T is to be doubted, madam. 

Regan. Now, sweet lord, 

You know the goodness I intend upon you : 
Tell me — but truly — but then speak the truth, 
Do you not love my sister ? 

Edmund. In honour'd love. 






ACT V. SCENE I. ! 39 

Regan. But have you never found my brother's way 10 
To the forfended place ? 

Edmund. That thought abuses you. 

Regan. I am doubtful that you have been conjunct 
And bosom'd with her, as far as we call hers. 

Edmund. No, by mine honour, madam. 

Regan. I never shall endure her. Dear my lord, 
Be not familiar with her. 

Edmund. Fear me not. — 

She and the duke her husband ! 

Enter, with drum and colours, Albany, Goneril, and 

Soldiers. 

Goneril. [Aside].! had rather lose the battle than that 
sister 
Should loosen him and me. 

Albany. Our very loving sister, well be-met. — 20 

Sir, this I hear : the king is come to his daughter, 
With others whom the rigour of our state 
Forc'd to cry out. Where I could not be honest, 
I never yet was valiant ; for this business, 
It toucheth us, as France invades our land, 
Not bolds the king, with others, whom, I fear, 
Most just and heavy causes make oppose. 

Edmund. Sir, you speak nobly. 

Regan. Why is this reason'd ? 

Goneril. Combine together 'gainst the enemy; 
For these domestic and particular broils 30 

Are not the question here. 

Albany. Let 's then determine 

With the ancient of war on our proceeding. 

Edmund. I shall attend you presently at your tent. 

Regan. Sister, you '11 go with us? 

Goneril. No. 

Regan. 'T is most convenient; pray you, go with us. 

Goneril. [Aside] O, ho, I know the riddle ! — I will go. 



I4 o KING LEAR. 



As they are going out, enter Edgar disguised. 

Edgar. If e'er your grace had speech with man so poor, 
Hear me one word. 

Albany. I '11 overtake you. — Speak. 

{Exeunt all but Albany and Edgar. 

Edgar. Before you fight the battle, ope this letter. 40 

If you have victory, let the trumpet sound 
For him that brought it ; wretched though I seem, 
I can produce a champion that will prove 
What is avouched there. If you miscarry, 
Your business of the world hath so an end, 
And machination ceases. Fortune love you ! 

Albany. Stay till I have read the letter. 

Edgar. I was forbid it. 

When time shall serve, let but the herald cry, 
And I '11 appear again. 49 

Albany. Why, fare thee well; I will o'erlook thy paper. 

[Exit Edgar. 
Re-enter Edmund. 

Edmund. The enemy 's in view ; draw up your powers. 
Here is the guess of their true strength and forces 
By diligent discovery; but your haste 
Is now urg'd on you. 

Alba?iy. We will greet the time. [Exit. 

Edmund. To both these sisters have I sworn my love ; 
Each jealous of the other, as the stung 
Are of the adder. Which of them shall I take ? 
Both? one? or neither? Neither can be enjoy'd, 
If both remain alive. To take the widow 
Exasperates, makes mad her sister Goneril; 60 

And hardly shall I carry out my side, 
Her husband being alive. Now then we '11 use 
His countenance for the battle ; which being done, 
Let her who would be rid of him devise 






ACT V. SCENES II. AND III. 



141 



His speedy taking-off. As for the mercy 

Which he intends to Lear and to Cordelia, — 

The battle done, and they within our power, 

Shall never see his pardon ; for my state 

Stands on me to defend, not to debate. [Exit. 

Scene II. A Field between the two Camps. 

Alarimi within. Enter, with drum and colours, Lear, Cor- 
delia, and Soldiers, over the stage; and exeimt. 

Enter Edgar and Gloster. 

Edgar. Here, father, take the shadow of this tree 
For your good host; pray that the right may thrive. 
If ever I return to you again, 
I '11 bring you comfort. 

Gloster. Grace go with you, sir ! 

[Exit Edgar. 

Alai'iim and retreat within. Re-enter Edgar. 

Edgar. Away, old man ; give me thy hand ; away ! 
King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta'en. 
Give me thy hand; come on. 

Gloster. No further, sir ; a man may rot even here. 

Edgar. What, in ill thoughts again ? Men must endure 
Their going hence, even as their coming hither; 10 

Ripeness is all. Come on. 

Gloster. And that 's true too. [Exeunt. 

Scene III. The British Camp near Dover. 

Enter, in conquest, with drum and colours, Edmund; Lear 
and Cordelia, prisoners; Captain, Soldiers, etc. 

Edmund. Some officers take them away; good guard, 
Until their greater pleasures first be known 
That are to censure them. 



142 



KING LEAR. 



Cordelia. We are not the first 

Who, with best meaning, have incurr'd the worst. 
For thee, oppressed king, I am cast down ; 
Myself could else out-frown false fortune's frown. 
Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters? 

Lear. No, no, no, no ! Come, let 's away to prison; 
We two alone will sing like birds i' the cage. 
When thou dost ask me blessing, I '11 kneel down, . 10 

And ask of thee forgiveness. So we '11 live, 
And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh 
At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues 
Talk of court news; and we '11 talk with them too, 
Who loses and who wins, who 's in, who 's out ; 
And take upon 's the mystery of things, 
As if we were God's spies : and we '11 wear out, 
In a wall'd prison, packs and sects of great ones 
That ebb and flow by the moon. 

Edmund. Take them away. 

Lear. Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia, 20 

The gods themselves throw incense. Have I caught thee? 
He that parts us shall bring a brand from heaven, 
And fire us hence like foxes. Wipe thine eyes ; 
The good-years shall devour them, flesh and fell, 
Ere they shall make us weep : we '11 see 'em starv'd first. 
Come. [Exeunt Lear and Cordelia, guarded. 

Edmund. Come hither, captain ; hark. 
Take thou this note [giving a pape?'~\ ; go follow them to 

prison. 
One step I have advanc'd thee; if thou dost 
As this instructs thee, thou dost make thy way 30 

To noble fortunes. Know thou this, that men 
Are as the time is; to be tender-minded 
Does not become a sword : thy great employment 
Will not bear question ; either say thou 'It do 't, 
Or thrive by other means. 



ACT V. SCENE III. I43 

Captain. I '11 do % my lord. 

Edmund, About it; and write happy when thou hast done. 
Mark, — I say, instantly, and carry it so 
As I have set it down. 

Captain. I cannot draw a cart, nor eat dried oats; 39 

If 't be man's work, I '11 do 't. {Exit. 

Flourish. Enter Albany, Goneril, Regan, another Captain, 

and Soldiers. 

Albany. Sir, you have show'd to-day your valiant strain, 
And fortune led you well; you have the captives 
That were the opposites of this day's strife. 
I do require them of you, so to use them 
As we shall find their merits and our safety 
May equally determine. 

Edmund. Sir, I thought it fit 

To send the old and miserable king 
To some retention and appointed guard; ' . 

Whose age had charms in it, whose title more, 
To pluck the common bosom on his side, 50 

And turn our impress'd lances in our eyes 
Which do command them. With him I sent the queen ; 
My reason all the same : and they are ready 
To-morrow, or at further space, to appear 
Where you shall hold your session. At this time 
We sweat and bleed : the friend hath lost his friend; 
And the best quarrels, in the heat, are curs'd 
By those that feel their sharpness. 
The question of Cordelia and her father 
Requires a fitter place. 

Albany. Sir, by your patience, 60 

I hold you but a subject of this war, 
Not as a brother. 

Regan. That 's as we list to grace him. 

Methinks our pleasure might have been demanded, 



KING LEAR. 



70 



Ere you had spoke so far. He led our powers 
Bore the commission of my place and person; 
The which immediacy may well stand up, 
And call itself your brother. 

Goneril. Not so hot ; 

In his own grace he cloth exalt himself 
More than in your addition. 

Regan. In my rights, 

By me invested, he compeers the best. 

Albany. That were the most, if he should husband you 

Regan. Jesters do oft prove prophets. 

Goneril. Holla, holla ! 

That eye that told you so look'd but a-squint. 

Regan. Lady, I am not well; else I should answer 
From a full-flowing stomach. — General, 
Take thou my soldiers, prisoners, patrimony : 
Dispose of them, of me; the walls are thine. 
Witness the 'world, that I create thee here 
My lord and master. 

Goneril. Mean you to enjoy him ? 

Albany. The let-alone lies not in your good will. 

Edmund. Nor in thine, lord. 

Albany. Half-blooded fellow, yes. 

Regan. [To Edmund.] Let the drum strike, and prove my 
title thine. 

Albany. Stay yet; hear reason. — Edmund, I arrest thee 
On capital treason ; and, in thy arrest, 
This gilded serpent [pointing to Goneril\ — For your claim, 

fair sister, 
I bar it in the interest of my wife ; 
'T is she is sub-contracted to this lord, 
And I, her husband, contradict your bans. 
If you will marry, make your loves to me; 
My lady is bespoke. 

Goneril. An interlude! 90 



80 



ACT V. SCENE III. I45 

Albany. Thou art arm'd, Gloster; let the trumpet sound. 
If none appear to prove upon thy person 
Thy heinous, manifest, and many treasons, 
There is my pledge [throwing down a glove]. I '11 prove it 

on thy heart, 
Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing less 
Than I have here proclaim 'd thee. 

Regan. Sick, O, sick ! 

Goneril. [Aside] If not, I '11 ne'er trust medicine. 

Edmund. [Throwing down a glove.] There 's my exchange. 
What in the world he is 
That names me traitor, villain-like he lies. 
Call by thy trumpet; he that dares approach, ioo 

On him, on you, — who not? — I will maintain 
My truth and honour firmly. 

Albany. A herald, ho ! 

Edmund. A herald, ho, a herald ! 

Albany. Trust to thy single virtue ; for thy soldiers, 
All levied in my name, have in my name 
Took their discharge. 

Regan. My sickness grows upon me. 

Albany. She is not well. — Convey her to my tent. — 

[Exit Regan, led. 
Enter a Herald. 

•Come hither, herald, — Let the trumpet sound, — 

And read out this. 109 

Captain. Sound, trumpet ! [A trumpet sounds. 

Herald. [Reads] ' If any man of quality or degree within 
the lists of the army will maintain upon Edmund, supposed 
Earl of Gloster, that he is a manifold traitor, let him appear 
by the third sound of the trumpet; he is bold in his defence.'' 

Edmund. Sound ! [First tnwipet. 

Herald. Again ! [Second trumpet. 

Herald. Again! [Third trumpet. 

[ Trumpet answers within. 
K 



146 



KING LEAR. 



Enter Edgar, at the third sound, armed, with a irwnpet 

before him. 

Albany. Ask him his purposes, why he appears 
Upon this call o' the trumpet. 

Herald. What are you ? 

Your name, your quality? and why you answer 120 

This present summons ? 

Edgar. Know, my name is lost, 

By treason's tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit; 
Yet am I noble as the adversary 
I come to cope. 

Albany. Which is that adversary ? 

Edgar. What 's he that speaks for Edmund Earl of Gloster? 

Edmund. Himself; what say'st thou to him ? 

Edgar. Draw thy sword, 

That, if my speech offend a noble heart, 
Thy arm may do thee justice; here is mine. 
Behold, it is the privilege of mine honours, 
My oath, and my profession. I protest,, — 130 

Maugre thy strength, place, youth, and eminence, 
Despite thy victor sword and fire-new fortune, 
Thy valour and thy heart, — thou art a traitor, 
False to thy gods, thy brother, and thy father, 
Conspirant 'gainst this high illustrious prince, 
And, from the extremest upward of thy head 
To the descent and dust below thy foot, 
A most toad-spotted traitor. Say thou ' No,' 
This sword, this arm, and my best spirits are bent 
To prove upon thy heart, whereto I speak, 140 

Thou liest. 

Edmund. In wisdom I should ask thy name; 
But, since thy outside looks so fair and warlike, 
And that thy tongue some say of breeding breathes, 
What safe and nicely I might well delay 



ACT V. SCENE III. 147 

By rule of knighthood, I disdain and spurn. 

Back do I toss these treasons to thy head, 

With the hell-hated lie o'erwhelm thy heart; 

Which, for they yet glance by and scarcely bruise, 

This sword of mine shall give them instant way, 150 

Where they shall rest for ever. — Trumpets, speak ! 

{Alarums. They fight. Edmund falls. 

Albany. Save him, save him ! 

Goneril. This is practice, Gloster; 

By the law of arms thou wast not bound to answer 
An unknown opposite : thou art not vanquish'd, 
But cozen'd and beguil'd. 

Albany. Shut your mouth, dame, 

Or with this paper shall I stop it. — Hold, sir; 
Thou worse than any name, read thine own evil. — 
No tearing, lady; I perceive you know it. 

{Gives the letter to Edmund. 

Goneril. Say, if I do, the laws are mine, not thine. 
Who can arraign me for 't ? {Exit. 

Albany. Most monstrous ! oh ! — 160 

Know'st thou this paper ? 

Edmund. Ask me not what I know. 

Albany. Go after her: she 's desperate; govern her. 

Edmund. What you have charg'd me with, that have I 
clone; 
And more, much more : the time will bring it out. 
'T is past, and so am I.— But what art thou 
That hast this fortune on me ? If thou 'rt noble, 
I do forgive thee. 

Edgar. Let 's exchange charity. 

I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund ; 
If more, the more thou hast wrong'd me. 
My name is Edgar, and thy father's son. 170 

The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices 
Make instruments to plague us. 



148 



KING IEAR. 



The dark and vicious place where thee he got 
Cost him his eyes. 

Edmund. Thou hast spoken right, 't is true : 

The wheel is come full circle; I am here. 

Albany. Methought thy very gait did prophesy 
A royal nobleness. I must embrace thee ; 
Let sorrow split my heart, if ever I 
Did hate thee or thy father ! 

Edgar. Worthy prince, I know 't. 

Albany. Where have you hid yourself? l8 ° 

How have you known the miseries of your father ? 

Edgar. By nursing them, my lord. List a brief tale ; 
And when it is told, O that my heart would burst ! 
The bloody proclamation to escape, 
That follow'd me so near, — O, our lives' sweetness ! 
That we the pain of death would hourly die 
Rather than die at once ! — taught me to shift 
Into a madman's rags, to assume a semblance 
That very dogs disdain'd; and in this habit 
Met I my father with his bleeding rings, J 9° 

Their precious stones new lost, became his guide, 
Led him, begg'd for him, sav'd him from despair; 
Never, — O fault ! — reveal'd myself unto him, 
Until some half-hour past, when I was arm'd. 
Not sure, though hoping, of this good success, 
I ask'd his blessing, and from first to last 
Told him my pilgrimage; but his flaw'd heart, — 
Alack, too weak the conflict to support ! — 
'Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief, 
Burst smilingly. 

Edmund. This speech of yours hath mov'd me, 2 <*> 

And shall perchance do good : but speak you on; 
You look as you had something more to say. 

Albany. If there be more, more woful, hold it in ; 
For I am almost ready to dissolve, 
Hearing of this. 



ACT V. SCENE III. I49 

Edgar. This would have seem'd a period 

To such as love not sorrow ; but another, 
To amplify too much, would make much more, 
And top extremity. 

Whilst I was big in clamour came there in a man, 
Who, having seen me in my worst estate, 210 

Shunn'd my abhorr'd society; but then, rinding 
Who 't was that so endur'd, with his strong arms 
He fasten'd on my neck, and bellow'd out 
As he 'd burst heaven; threw him on my father; 
Told the most piteous tale of Lear and him 
That ever ear receiv'd; which in recounting 
His grief grew puissant, and the strings of life 
Began to crack. Twice then the trumpets sounded, 
And there I left him tranc'd. 

Albany. But who was this ? 

Edgar. Kent, sir, the banish'd Kent; who in disguise 22 ° 
Follow'd his enemy king, and did him service 
Improper for a slave. 

Enter a Gentleman with a bloody knife. 

Gentleman. Help, help, O, help ! 

Edgar. What kind of help ? 

Albany. Speak, man. 

Edgar. What means that bloody knife ? 

Gentleman. 'T is hot, it smokes ! 

It came even from the heart of — O, she 's dead ! 

Albany. Who dead ? speak, man. 

Gentleman. Your lady, sir, your lady ! and her sister 
By her is poison'd; she confesses it. 

Edmund. I was contracted to them both ; all three 
Now marry in an instant. 

Edgar. Here comes Kent. 2 3o 

Albany. Produce the bodies, be they alive or dead. 
This judgment of the heavens, that makes us tremble, 
Touches us not with pity. — \_Exit Gentleman. 



i5o 



KING LEAR. 



Enter Kent. 

O, is this he ? 
The time will not allow the compliment 
Which very manners urges. 

Kent. ' I am come 

To bid my king and master aye good night. 
Is he not here ? 

Albaiiy. Great thing of us forgot ! 

Speak, Edmund, where 's the king ? and where 's Cordelia ? — • 
See'st thou this object, Kent ? 

[The bodies of Goneril and Regan are brought in. 

Kent. Alack, why thus ? 

Edmund. Yet Edmund was belov'd. 240 

The one the other poison'd for my sake, 
And after slew herself. 

Albany. Even so. — Cover their faces. 

Edmund. I pant for life; some good I mean to do, 
Despite of mine own nature. — Quickly send, 
Be brief in it, to the castle ! for my writ 
Is on the life of Lear and on Cordelia. 
Nay, send in time ! 

Albany. Run, run, O, run ! 

Edgar. To who, my lord? — Who has the office ? send 
Thy token of reprieve. 250 

Edmund. Well thought on ; take my sword, 
Give it the captain. 

Albany. Haste thee, for thy life ! 

[Exit Edgar. 

Edmund. He hath commission from thy wife and me 
To hang Cordelia in the prison, and 
To lay the blame upon her own despair, 
That she fordid herself. 

Albany. The gods defend her! — Bear him hence awhile. 

[Edmund is borne off. 



ACT V. SCENE III. 



151 



Re-enter Lear, with Cordelia dead in his arms; Edgar, 
Captain, and others following. 

Lear. Howl, howl, howl, howl ! O, you are men of 
stones! 
Had I your tongues and eyes, I 'd use them so 
That heaven's vault should crack. She 's gone for ever ! 
I know when one is dead, and when one lives. 261 

She 's dead as earth. Lend me a looking-glass; 
If that her breath will mist or stain the stone, 
Why, then she lives. 

Kent. Is this the promis'd end ? 

Edgar. Or image of that horror? 

Albany. Fall and cease ! 

Lear. This feather stirs ! she lives ! if it be so, 
It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows 
That ever I have felt. 

Kent. O my good master ! 

L.ear. Prithee, away ! 

Edgar. 'T is noble Kent, your friend. 

Lear. A plague upon you, murtherers, traitors all ! 2 7° 

I might have sav'd her ! now she 's gone for ever ! — 
Cordelia, Cordelia ! stay a little. Ha ! 
What is 't thou say'st ? — Her voice was ever soft, 
Gentle and low, an excellent thing in woman. — 
I kill'd the slave that was a-hanging thee. 

Captain. 'T is true, my lords, he did. 

Lear. Did I not, fellow ? 

I have seen the day, with my good biting falchion 
I would have made them skip. I am old now, 
And these same crosses spoil me. — Who are you ? 
Mine eyes are not o' the best; I '11 tell you straight. 280 

Kent. If fortune brag of two she lov'd and hated, 
One of them ye behold. 

Lear. This is a dull sight. — Are you not Kent? 



I52 KING LEAR. 

Kent. The same, 

Your servant Kent. Where is your servant Caius? 

Lear. He 's a good fellow, I can tell you that; 
He '11 strike, and quickly too. He 's dead and rotten. 

Kent. No, my good lord ; I am the very man — 

Lear. I '11 see that straight. 

ICent. That from your first of difference and decay 
Have follow'd your sad steps — 

Lear. You are welcome hither. 

Kent. Nor no man else; all 's cheerless, dark, and deadly. 
Your eldest daughters have fordone themselves, 292 

And desperately are dead. 

Lear. Ay, so I think. 

Albany. He knows not what he says, and vain it is 
That we present us to him. 

Edgar. Very bootless. 

Enter a Captain. 

Captain. Edmund is dead, my lord. 

Albany. That 's but a trifle here. — 

You lords and noble friends, know our intent. 
What comfort to this great decay may come 
Shall be applied : for us, we will resign, 
During the life of this old majesty, 

To him our absolute power; — [To Edgar and Kent] you, to 
your rights, 301 

W T ith boot, and such addition as your honours 
Have more than merited. ( All friends shall taste 
The wages of their virtue, and all foes 
The cup of their deservings. — O, see, see ! 

Lear. And my poor fool is hang'd ! No, no, no life ! 
Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, 
And thou no breath at all ? Thou 'It come no more, 
Never, never, never, never, never ! — 
Pray you, undo this button; thank you, sir. — 310 



ACT V. SCENE III. 



*53 



Do you see this? Look on her, — look, — her lips, — 

Look there, look there ! [Dies. 

Edgar. He faints ! — My lord, my lord ! 

Kent. Break, heart ; I prithee, break ! 

Edgar. Look up, my lord. 

Kent. Vex not his ghost. O, let him pass ! he hates him 
That would upon the rack of this tough world 
Stretch him out longer. 

Edgar. He is gone, indeed. 

Ke?it. The wonder is he hath endur'd so long; 
He but usurp'd his life. 

Albany. Bear them from hence. — Our present business 
Is general woe. — [To Kent and Edgar] Friends of my soul, 
you twain 320 

Rule in this realm, and the gor'd state sustain. 

Kent. I have a journey, sir, shortly to go; 
My master calls me, I must not say no. 

Albany. The weight of this sad time we must obey, 
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. 
The oldest hath borne most ; we that are young 
Shall never see so much, nor live so long. 

[Exeunt, with a dead march. 





STRATFORD PORTRAIT OF SHAKESPEARE. 



ABBREVIATIONS USED IN THE NOTES. 

Abbott (or Gr.), Abbott's Shakespearian Grammar (third edition). 
A. S., Anglo-Saxon. 

A. V., Authorized Version of the Bible (1611). 

B. and F., Beaumont and Fletcher. 
B. J., Ben Jonson. 

Camb. ed., " Cambridge edition" of Shakespeare, edited by Clark and Wright. 
Cf. {confer), compare. 

Clarke, " CasselPs Illustrated Shakespeare," edited by Charles and Mary Cowden 
Clarke (London, n. d.). 

Coll., Collier (second edition). 

Coll. MS., Manuscript Corrections of Second Folio, edited by Collier. 

D., Dyce (second edition). 

F., H. H. Furness's " New Variorum" ed. of Lear (Philadelphia, 1880). 

H., Hudson (first edition). 

Halliwell, J. O. Halliwell (folio ed. of Shakespeare). 

Id. {idem), the same. 

J. H., J. Hunter's ed. of Lear (London, 1865). 

K., Knight (second edition). 

M., Rev. C. E. Moberly's "Rugby" ed. of Lear (London, 1876). 

Nares, Glossary, edited by Halliwell and Wright (London, 1859). 

Prol., Prologue. 

S., Shakespeare. 

Schmidt, A. Schmidt's Shakespeare-Lexicon (Berlin, 1874). 

Sr., Singer. 

St., Staunton. 

Theo., Theobald. 

W., R. Grant White. 

Walker, Wm. Sidney Walker's Critical Examination of the Text of Shakespeare 
(London, i860). 

Warb., Warburton. 

Wb., Webster's Dictionary (revised quarto edition of 1879). 

Wore, Worcester's Dictionary (quarto edition). 

Wr., W. A. Wright's "Clarendon Press" ed. of Lear (Oxford, 1875). 

The abbreviations of the names of Shakespeare's Plays will be readily understood; as 
T. N. for Twelfth Night, Cor. for Coriolanus, 3 Hen. VI. for The Third Part of King 
Henry the Sixth, etc. P. P. refers to The Passionate Pilgrim ; V. and A . to Venus 
and Adonis ; L. C. to Lover's Complaint ; and Sonn. to the Sonnets. 

When the abbreviation of the name of a play is followed by a reference to page, 
Rolfe's edition of the play is meant. 

The numbers of the lines (except for Lear) are those of the " Globe " ed. or of the 
"Acme" reprint of that ed. 



NOTES. 







COUNTRY NEAR DOVER. 



INTRODUCTION. 

The story of Lear as told by Holinshed {The second Booke of the his- 
torie of England, chaps, v. and vi. ed. 1574) is as follows:* 

" Leir the sonne of Baldud, was admitted ruler ouer the Britaines, in 
the yeere .of the world 3105, at what time Ioas raigned as yet in Iuda. 
This Leir was a prince of right noble demeanor, gouerning his land and 
subiects in great wealth. He made the towne of Caerlier nowe called 
Leicester, which standeth vpon the riuer of Sore. It is written that he 
had by his wife three daughters without other issue, whose names were 
Gonorilla, Regan, and Cordeilla, which daughters he greatly loued, but spe- 
cially Cordeilla the yoongest farre aboue the two elder. When this Leir 
therefore was come to great yeeres, & began to waxe vnweldie through 
age, he thought to vnderstand the affections of his daughters towards 

;;:; See Funiess, p. 384 fol. 



i53 



NOTES. 



him, and preferre hir whome he best loued, to the succession ouer the 
kingdome. Whervpon he first asked Gonorilla the eldest, how well shee 
loued him : who calling hir gods to record, protested, that she loued him 
more than hir owne life, which by right and reason shoulde be most 
deere vnto hir. With which answer the father being well pleased, turned 
to the second, and demanded of hir how well she loued him : who an- 
swered (confirming hir saiengs with great othes) that she loued him more 
. than toung could expresse, and farre aboue all other creatures of the 
world. 

"Then called he his yoongest daughter Cordeilla before him, and asked 
of hir what account she made of him : vnto whome she made this answer 
as followeth : Knowing the great loue and fatherlie zeale that you haue 
always borne towards me, (for the which I maie not answere you other- 
wise than I thinke, and as my conscience leadeth me) I protest vnto you, 
that I haue loued you euer, and will continuallie (while I Hue) loue you 
as my naturall father. And if you would more vnderstand of the loue 
that I beare you, assertaine your selfe, that so much as you haue, so 
much you are worth, and so much I loue you, and no more. The father 
being nothing content with this answer, married his two eldest daughters, 
the one vnto Henninus, the Duke of Cornewal, and the other vnto Ma- 
glanus, the Duke of Albania, betwixt whome he willed and ordeined that 
his land should be deuided after his death, and the one halfe thereof im- 
mediatelie should be assigned to them in hand : but for the third daugh- 
ter Cordeilla he reserued nothing. 

" Neuertheles it fortuned that one of the princes of Gallia (which now is 
called France) whose name was Aganippus, hearing of the beautie, wom- 
anhood, and good conditions of the said Cordeilla, desired to haue hir in 
mariage, and sent ouer to hir father, requiring that he mighte haue hir to 
wife : to whome answere was made, that he might haue his daughter, but 
as for anie dower he could haue none, for all was promised and assured 
to hir other sisters alreadie. Aganippus notwithstanding this answer of 
deniall to receiue anie thing by way of dower with Cordeilla, tooke hir 
to wife, onlie moued thereto (I saie) for respect of hir person and amia- 
ble vertues. This Aganippus was one of the twelue kings that ruled 
Gallia in those daies, as in the Brittish historie it is recorded. But to 
proceed. 

"After that Leir was fallen into age, the two dukes that had married his 
two eldest daughters, thinking long yer the gouernment of the land did 
come to their hands, arose against him in armour, and reft from him the 
gouernance of the land, vpon conditions to be continued for terme of 
life : by the which he was put to his portion, that is, to Hue after a rate 
assigned to him for the maintenance of his estate, which in processe of 
time was diminished as well by Maglanus as by Henninus. But the 
greatest griefe that Leir tooke, was to see the vnkindnesse of his daugh- 
ters, which seemed to thinke that all was too much which their father 
had, the same being neuer so little : in so much, that going from the one 
to the other, he was brought to that miserie, that scarslie they would al- 
low him one seruaunt to waite vpon him. 

" In the end, such was the vnkindnesse, or (as I maie saie) the vnnatu- 



INTRODUCTION. I59 

ralnesse which he found in his two daughters, notwithstanding their faire 
and pleasant words vttered in time past, that being constreined of neces- 
sitie, he fled the land, and sailed into Gallia, there to seeke some comfort 
of his youngest daughter Cordeilla whom before time he hated. The ladie 
Cordeilla hearing that he was arriued in poore estate, she first sent to 
him privilie a certeine summe of monie to apparell himselfe withall, and 
to reteine a certein number of seruants that might attende vpon him in 
honorable wise, as apperteined to the estate which he had borne : and 
then so accompanied, she appointed him to come to the court, which he 
did, and was so ioifullie, honorablie, and louinglie receiued, both by his 
sonne in law Aganippus, and also by his daughter Cordeilla, that his hart 
was greatlie comforted : for he was no lesse honored, than if he had beene 
king of the whole countrie himselfe. 

" Now when he had informed his son in law and his daughter in what 
sort he had beene vsed by his other daughters, Aganippus caused a 
mightie armie to be put in readinesse, and likewise a greate nauie of 
ships to be rigged, to passe ouer into Britaine with Leir his father in law, 
to see him againe restored to his kingdome. It was accorded, that Cor- 
deilla should also go with him to take possession of the land, the which 
he promised to leaue vnto hir, as the rightfull inheritour after his decesse, 
notwithstanding any former grant made to hir sisters or to their husbands 
in anie maner of wise. 

" Herevpon, when this armie and nauie of ships were readie, Leir and 
his daughter Cordeilla with hir husband tooke the sea, and arriuing in 
Britaine, fought with their enimies, and discomfited them in battel], in 
which Maglanus and Henninus were slaine : and then was Leir restored 
to his kingdome, which he ruled after this by the space of two yeeres, 
and then died, fortie yeeres after he first began to reigne. His bodie was 
buried at Leicester in a vaut vnder the chanell of the riuer of Sore be- 
neath the towne. 

" Cordeilla the yoongest daughter of Leir was admitted Q. and supreme 
gouernesse of Britaine, in the yeere of .the world 3155, before the bylding 
of Rome 54, Uzia was then reigning in Juda, and Jeroboam ouer Israeli. 
This Cordeilla after hir father's deceasse ruled the land of Britaine right 
worthilie during the space of fiue yeeres, in which meane time her hus- 
band died, and then about the end of those fiue yeeres, hir two nephewes 
Margan and Cunedag, sonnes to hir aforesaid sisters, disdaining to be 
vnder the gouernment of a woman, leuied warre against hir, and destroied 
a great part of the land, and finallie tooke hir prisoner, and laid hir fast 
in ward, wherewith she tooke suche griefe, being a woman of a manlie 
courage, "and despairing to recouer libertie, there she slue hirselfe." 

The following extract from Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia (lib. ii. pp. 133— 
138, ed. 1598, as quoted in the Clarendon ed.) contains the story out of 
which Shakespeare moulded Gloucester's tragic fate. It is called in ed. 
1590, "The pitifull state, and story of the Paphlagonian vnkinde king, 
and his kind sonne, first related by the son, then by the blind fa- 
ther :" 

"It was in the kingdome of Galacia, the season being (as in the depth 



i6o 



NOTES. 



of winter) verie cold, and as then sodainlie growne to so extreame and 
foule a storme, that neuer any winter (I thinke) brought forth a fowler 
child : so that the Princes were euen copelled by the haile, that the pride 
of the winde blew into their faces, to seeke some shrowding place which 
a certain hollow rocke offering vnto them, they made it their shield 
against the tempests furie. And so staying there, till the violence there- 
of was passed, they heard the speach of a couple, who not perceiuing 
them, being hid within that rude canapie, held a straunge and pitifull dis- 
putation, which made them step out, yet in such sort, as they might see 
vnseene. There they perceiued an aged man, and a young, scarcelie 
come to the age of a man, both poorely arrayed, extreamely weather- 
beaten ; the olde man blind, the young man leading him : and yet through 
all those miseries, in both there seemed to appeare a kind of noblenesse, 
not sutable to that affliction. But the first words they heard, were these 
of the old man. Well Leonatus (said he) since I cannot perswade thee 
to leade me to that which should end my griefe, and thy trouble, let me 
now intreat thee to leaue me : feare not, my miserie cannot be greater 
then it is, and nothing doth become me but miserie : feare not the daun- 
ger of my blind steps, I cannot fall worse then I am : and do not I pray 
thee, do not obstinately continue to infect thee with my wretchednesse : 
but flie, flie from this region only worthie of me. Deare father (answered 
he) do not take away from me the only remnant of my happinesse : while 
I haue power to do you seruice, I am not whoilie miserable. Ah my 
sonne (said he, and with that he groned, as if sorrow straue to breake his 
heart) how euill fits it me to haue such a sonne, and how much doth thy 
kindnesse vpbraid my wickednesse ? These dolefuil speeches, and some 
others to like purpose (well shewing they had not bene borne to the 
fortune they were in,) moued the Princes to go out vnto them, and aske 
the younger what they were ? Sirs (answered he with a good grace, and 
made the more agreeable by a certaine noble kind of piteousnesse) I see 
well you are straungers, that know not our miserie, so well here knowne, 
that no man dare know, but that we must be miserable. Indeed our 
state is such, as though nothing is so needfull vnto vs as pitie, yet noth- 
ing is more dangerous vnto vs, then to make our seines so knowne as 
may stirre pitie; but your presence promiseth that crueltie shall not 
ouer-runne hate: and if it did, in truth our state is sunke below the de- 
gree of feare. 

"This old man (whom I leade) was lately rightfull Prince of this coun- 
trie of Paphlagonia, by the hard-hearted vngratefulnesse of a sonne of his, 
depriued, not onely of his kingdome (whereof no forraine forces were euer 
able to spoyle him) but of his sight, the riches which Nature graunts to 
the poorest creatures. Whereby, and by other his vnnaturall dealings, 
he hath bene driuen to such griefe, as euen now he would haue had me 
to haue led him to the top of this rocke, thence to cast himselfe head- 
long to death : and so would haue made me, who receiued my life of him, 
to be the worker of his destruction. But noble Gentlemen, said he, if 
either of you haue a father, and feele what dutifull affection is engrafted 
in a sonnes heart, let me intreat you to conueigh this afflicted Prince to 
some place of rest and securitie : amongst your worthie acts it shall be 






INTRO D UCTION. j 6 1 

none of the least, that a king of such might and fame, & so vniustlie op- 
pressed, is in any sort by you relieued. 

" But before they could make him answere, his father beganne to speake. 
Ah my Sonne, said he, how euill an Historian are you, that leaue out the 
chiefe knot of all the discourse ? my wickednesse, my wickednesse : and 
if thou doest it to spare my eares, (the only sense now left me proper 
for knowledge) assure thy selfe thou doest mistake me : and I take wit- 
nesse of that Sunne which you see (with that he cast vp his blind eyes, 
as if he would hunt for light) and wish my selfe in worse case then I do 
wish my selfe, which is as euill as may be, if I speake vntrulie, that noth- 
ing is so welcome to my thoughts, as the publishing of my shame. There- 
fore know you Gentlemen (to whom from my heart I wish that it may not 
proue some ominous foretoken of misfortune to haue met with such a 
miser as I am) that whatsoeuer my son (6 God, that truth binds me to 
reproch him with the name of my son) hath said is true. But besides 
those truthes, this also is true, that hauing had in lawfull mariage, of a 
mother fit to beare royall children, this sonne (such a one as partly you 
see, and better shall know by my short declaration) and so enioyed the 
xpectations in the world of him, till he was growne to iustifie their ex- 
pectations (so as I needed enuie no father for the chiefe comfort of mor- 
talitie, to leaue another ones-selfe after me) I was caried by a bastard 
sonne of mine (if at least I be bound to beleeue the words of that base 
woman my concubine, his mother) first to mislike, then to hate, lastlie 
to destroy, or to do my best to destroy this sonne (I thinke you thinke) 
vndeseruing destruction. What wayes he vsed to bring me to it, if I 
should tell you, I should tediouslie trouble you with as much poisonous 
hypocrisie, desperate fraud, smooth malice, hidden ambition, and smiling 
enuie, as in anie liuing person could be harboured : but I list it not ; no 
remembrance of naughtinesse delights me but mine owne ; and me 
thinks, the accusing his traps might in some maner excuse my fault, 
which certainlie I lothe to do. But the conclusion is, that I gaue orders 
to some seruants of mine, whom I thought as apt for such charities as 
my selfe, to leade him out into a forrest, and there to kill him. 

" But those theeues (better natured to my sonne then myselfe) spared 
his life, letting him go to learne to liue poorely : which he did, giuing 
himselfe to be a priuate souldier in a countrey here by : but as he was 
ready to be greatly aduanced for some noble peeces of seruice which he 
did, he heard newes of me: who (drunke in my affection to that vnlaw- 
full and vnnaturall sonne of mine) suffered my selfe so to be gouerned by 
him, that all fauours and punishments passed by him, all offices, and 
places of importance distributed to his fauorites ; so that ere I was aware, 
I had left my selfe nothing but the name of a King : which he shortly 
wearie of too, with many indignities (if any thing may be called an indig- 
nitie, which was laid vpon me) threw me out of my seat, and put out my 
eyes ; and then (proud in his tyrannie) let me go, neither imprisoning, 
nor killing me ; but rather delighting to make me feele my miserie ; mis- 
erie indeed, if euer there were anie ; full of wretchednesse, fuller of dis- 
grace, and fullest of guiltinesse. And as he came to the crowne by so 
vniust means, as vniustlie he kept it, by force of straunger souldiers in 

L 



r 6 2 NOTES. 

Cittadels, the neasts of tyrannie, and murderers of libertie ; disarming all 
his owne countrimen, that no man durst shew himself a wel-willer of 
mine : to say the truth (I thinke) few of them being so (considering my 
cruell follie to my good sonne, and foolish kindnesse to my vnkind bas- 
tard :) but if there were any who felt a pitie of so great a fall, and had yet 
any sparkes of vnslaine dude left in them towards me ; yet durst they not 
shew it, scarcelie with giuing me almes at their doores ; which yet was 
the onlie sustenance of my distressed life, no bodie daring to shew so 
much charitie, as to lend me a hand to guide my darke steps : till this 
sonne of mine (God knowes, worthy of a more vertuous, and more fortu- 
nate father) forgetting my abhominable wrongs, not recking daunger, and 
neglecting the present good way hee was in of doing himselfe good, came 
hither to do this kind office you see him performe towards me, to my 
vnspeakeable griefe ; not onlie because his kindnesse is a glasse euen to 
my blind eyes of my naughtiness, but that aboue all griefes, it grieues me 
he should desperatelie aduenture the losse of his well-deseruing life for 
mine, that yet owe more to Fortune for my deserts, as if he would carie 
mudde in a chest of Chrystall : for well I know, he that now raigneth, 
how much so euer (and with good reason) he despiseth me, of all men 
despised ; yet he will not let slip any aduantage to make away him, 
whose iust title (ennobled by courage & goodnesse) may one day shake 
the seat of a neuer secure tyrannie. And for this cause I craued of him 
to leade me to the top of this rocke, indeed I must confesse, with mean- 
ing to free him from so serpentine a companion as I am. But he finding 
what I purposed, onely therein since he was borne, shewed himselfe dis- 
obedient vnto me. And now Gentlemen, you haue the true storie, which 
I pray you publish to the world, that my mischieuous proceedings may 
be the glorie of his filiall pietie, the onlie reward now left for so great a 
merite. And if it may be, let me obtaine that of you, which my sonne 
denies me : for neuer was there more pity in sauing any, then in ending 
me, both because therin my agonie shall end, & so you shal preserue 
this excellent young man, who else wilfully followes his owne ruine." 

The ante-Shakespearian play of King Leir (see p. 10 above) was en- 
tered in the Stationers' Registers, May 14th, 1594, as " The moste famous 
Chronicle historye ^/"Leire hinge of England and his Three Daughters ;" 
and again, May 8th, 1605, as " the Tragecall historic of kinge leir and his 
Three Daughters, &*c." It was printed in 1605 with the following title- 
page (as quoted by F. from Capell) : 

"The I True Chronicle Hi- | story of King Leir, and his three | daugh- 
ters, Gonorill, Ragan, | and Cordelia. | As it hath bene divers and sun- 
dry I times lately acted. | London, | Printed by Simon Stafford for 
John I Wright, and are to be sold at his shop at | Christes Church dore, 
next Newgate | Market, 1605." 

Furness remarks : "If we must find an original for Lear, I think it is 
in the old drama, and not in Holinshed ; and I mean by this, that, in 
reading this old drama, every now and then there comes across us an in- 
cident, or a line, or a phrase, that reminds us of Shakespeare's Lear, and 
that this cannot be said of liolinshed's story. For instance, in Leir we find 



IN TROD UCTION. 



163 



a faithful courtier who defends Cordelia to her father, and the old king 
replies, ' Urge this no more, and if thou love thy life.' And this same 
courtier afterwards accompanies the old king in his exile as his faithful 
companion and servant. Again, in the trial-scene Cordelia murmurs 
aside her abhorrence at the hypocrisy of her sisters' asseverations of af- 
fection. Again, Leir alludes to Gonorill's ' young bones.' Again, Peril- 
lus says of Leir, ' But he the myrrour of mild patience, Puts up all wrongs 
and never gives reply.' Shakespeare's Lear says: 'No, I will be the 
pattern of all patience, I will say nothing.' Again, when Leir recognises 
Cordelia after their estrangement, he kneels to her. But it is needless to 
multiply instances. . . . No one, I think, has done fuller justice to the 
old drama, which, by the way, Capell called ' a silly old play,' than Camp- 
bell, the poet, who, in his Remarks on Shakespeare's Lear, says : ' The 
elder tragedy of King Leir is simple and touching. There is one entire 
scene in it, the meeting of Cordelia with her father in a lonely forest, 
which, with Shakespeare's Lear in my memory and heart, I could scarce- 
ly read with dry eyes. This Leir is a pleasing tragedy, and, though it 
precedes our poet's Lear, is not its prototype, and its mild merits only 
show us the wide expanse of difference between respectable talent and 
commanding inspiration. The two Lears have nothing in common but 
their aged weakness, their general goodness of heart, their royal rank, 
and their misfortunes. The ante-Shakespearian Lear is a patient, sim- 
ple old man, who bears his sorrows very meekly, till Cordelia arrives 
with her husband, the King of France, and his victorious army, and re- 
stores her father to the throne of Britain. ... In the old play, Leir has 
a friend Perillus, who moves our interest, though not so deeply as Kent 
in the later and grander drama. But, independently of Shakespeare's 
having created a new Lear, he has sublimated the old tragedy into a new 
one by an entire originality in the spiritual portraiture of its personages. 
... In fine, wherever Shakespeare works on old materials you will find 
him not wiping dusted gold, but extracting gold from dust, where none 
but himself could have made the golden extraction.' "* 

W. says that we may be sure that S. was acquainted with the old King 
Leir. He adds : " This play is a tolerable one for the time in which it 
was produced — the early Elizabethan period ; but it has no resemblance 
of construction or language to Shakespeare's tragedy, except that which 
results from the use of the same story as the foundation of both. But in 
the great dramatist's work there is yet a slight vestige of his insignificant 
and utterly unknown predecessor's labours upon the same subject. It 
might have been fortuitous, as it was most natural, that in both Cordelia 
should kneel to her father when she first sees him upon her return from 
France ; but that in both the father should manifest an inclination to 
kneel to the daughter must be due, it would seem, to a reminiscence by 
the later dramatist of the work of his predecessor. So, too, when Shake- 
speare's Lear exclaims, ' 't was this flesh begot Those pelican daughters,' 
we may be quite sure that we hear an echo of these lines by the forgot- 
ten dramatist : ' I am as kind as is the pelican That kills itself to save 

* For an abstract of the old play, see Furness, pp. 393-401. 



Z 6 4 NOTES. 

her young ones' lives.' And having found these traces of the old play in 
Shakespeare's memory, faint though they be, we may also presume that 
in Perillns, blunt and faithful counsellor and friend of the monarch in the 
elder play, we see a prototype of the noble character of Kent in the later. 
But in their scope, spirit, and purpose, aside from all question of com- 
parative merit, the two works are entirely dissimilar ; and after the closest 
examination of the earlier, I can find only these trifling and almost insig- 
nificant points of resemblance between them, except 'in incidents and 
characters which both playwrights owed to the old legend." 

On the costume, manners, etc., of the play, Verplanck remarks : " The 
tale of Lear and his 'three daughters fair' belongs to the domain of old 
romance and popular tradition, and, told in poem, ballad, and many ruder 
ways, had become familiar to the English people. It belongs to that un- 
real ' but most potently believed history ' whose heroes were the house- 
hold names of Europe, — Saint George and his brother-champions, King 
Arthur and Charlemagne, Don Belliani, Roland and his brother-Pala- 
dins, and many others, for part of whom time has done, among those 
' who speak the tongue that Shakespeare spoke,' what the burning of 
Don Quixote's library was meant to do for the knight. . . . Now, who 
that is at all familiar with the long train of imaginary history does not 
know that it all had its own customs and costume, as well defined as the 
heathen mythology or the Roman history ? All the personages wore the 
arms and habiliments, and obeyed the ceremonials, of mediaeval chivalry, 
very probably because.these several tales were put into legendary or po- 
etic form in those days ; but whatever was the reason, it was in that garb 
alone that they formed the popular literature of Europe in Shakespeare's 
time. It was a costume well fitted for poetical purposes, familiar in its 
details to popular understanding, yet so far beyond the habitual associa- 
tions of readers as to have some tinge of antiquity ; while (as the admir- 
ers of Ariosto and Spenser well know) it was eminently brilliant and 
picturesque. Thus, whether, like Chaucer, the poet laid his scene of Pal- 
am on and Arcite in Pagan Athens, under Duke Theseus ; or described, 
with the nameless author of Morte d' Arthur, the adventures of the 
Knights of the Round Table ; or, with Ariosto, those of the French Pala- 
dins ; or whether some humbler author told in prose the tale of Saint 
George, or the Seven Champions; the whole was clothed in the same cos- 
tume, and the courts and camps of Grecian emperors, British kings, Pagan 
or Turkish soldans, all pretty much resembled those of Charles of Bur- 
gundy, or Richard of England, as described by Froissart and his brethren. 

" To have deviated from this easy, natural, and most convenient con- 
ventional costume of fiction, half believed as history, for the sake of strip- 
ping off old Lear's civilized ' lendings,' and bringing "him to the unso- 
phisticated state of a painted Pictish king, would have shocked the sense 
of probability in an audience in Elizabeth's reign, as perhaps it would 
even now. The positive objective truth of history would appear far less 
probable than the received truth of poetry and romance, of the nursery 
and the stage. Accordingly, Shakespeare painted Lear and his times in 
the attire in which they were most familiar to the imagination of his au- 
dience." 



ACT I. SCENE I. 



165 



ACT I. 

Scene I. — Enter . . . Gloster. In the 1st folio the name is here 
spelt " Gloucester," but in many places in the play (as in Rich. III.) it is 
" Gloster'''' or " Glouster" and the abbreviations used are " Glo." " Glou." 
" Glost." etc. The 1st quarto has " Gloster" as have the majority of the 
modern eds. 

1. Had more affected. Had been more partial to. See Much Ado, p. 
124. The verb is intransitive in A. and C. i. 3. 71 : "As thou affect'st " 
(— likest, pleasest). 

2. Albany. Holinshed derives the name from Albanacte, or Albanac- 
tus, the youngest son of Brute. He gave the name Albania to that por- 
tion of Britain left him by his father, including all the territory north of 
the Humber. 

5. Qualities. The folio reading ; the quartos have " equalities," which, 
as Schmidt remarks, cannot be right, as the plural is improper. S. uses 
equality only in K. John, ii. I. 327 and A. and C. i. 3. 47. 

Curiosity. " Exactest scrutiny" (Warb.); "scrupulousness" (Stee- 
vens). Cf. i. 2. 4 and i. 4. 66. S. uses the word nowhere else except in 
T. of A. iv. 3. 303, where it has a similar sense ( = nicety). 

6. Moiety. Often used for a fraction other than a half. See Ham. p. 
174. 

The meaning of the passage is : the qualities or values are so balanced 
that the nicest discrimination cannot make choice among them. 

9. Brazed. Cf. Ham. iii. 4. 37 : " If damned custom have not braz'd it 
so," etc. 

12. Proper. Comely. See Much Ado, p. 139. 

13. Some year. See R. and J. p. 218, note on Some minute. Cf. i. 2. 5 
below. 

15. Something. The 3d and 4th folios (followed by some modern edi- 
tors) have "somewhat." The adverbial use of something is very com- 
mon in S. See Gr. 68. 

25. Out. " Seeking his fortune abroad, there being no career for him 
at home in consequence of his illegitimate birth " (Wr.). Cf. T. G. of V. 

i. 3. 7 : . 

^ " He wonder'd that your lordship 

Would suffer him to spend his youth at home, 

While other men, of slender reputation, 

Put forth their sons to seek, preferment out ;" 

that is, in foreign countries. 

26. Sennet. A succession of notes on the trumpet or cornet. See 
Hen. VIII. p. 176. 

28. I shall. We should now say, I will. See Gr. 315. In the next 
line the folios have shall, the quartos "will." 

29. Our darker purpose. " More secret " (Warb.). Johnson para- 
phrases the passage thus : " We have already made known in some 
measure our desire of parting the kingdom ; we will now discover what 
has not been told before, the reasons by which we shall regulate the par- 
tition." 



l6 6 NOTES. 

30. That. Omitted in the quartos. D. and H. (2d ed.) read " we've " 
for we have. 

31. In three. We still say "cut in two," " break in two," etc. Fast=- 
fixed, settled ; like constant in 36 below. 

32. From our age. The folio reading; the quartos have " of our state," 
and in the next line " Confirming them on younger yeares." They omit 
While we . . .prevented now, and, to fill out 38, read "The two great 
princes," etc. 

38. France and Burgundy. King Lear lived, as the chronicle says, 
"in the times of Joash, King of Judah." In iii. 2. 87, S. himself jokes at 
this extravagant antiquity ; and here he appears to imagine Lear as king 
in the rough times following Charlemagne, when France and Burgundy 
had become separate nations (M.). 

42, 43. Since now . . . state. The quartos omit these lines. For both 
with more than two nouns, cf. V. and A. 'j^.'j : " Both favour, savour, hue, 
and qualities ;" W. T. iv. 4. 56 : " She was both pantler, butler, cook ;" 
1 Hen. IV. v. 1. 107 : " Both he and they and you," etc. 

46. Where nature, etc. The folio reading ; the quartos have, " Where 
merit most doth challenge it." The meaning is : "where your natural 
affection deservedly claims it as due" (J. Crosby). For challenge (which 
Schmidt also makes=" claim as due"), cf. Oth. i.3. 188, ii. 1. 213, Rich. 
II. ii. 3. 134, R. and J. iii. 5. 216, etc. See also iv. 7. 31 below. 

48. Sir begins the line in the early eds., but is put a line by itself by 
Johnson, D., W., and F. The Coll. MS. omits the word. 

Word is the folio reading, retained by Rowe, K., and F. The editors 
generally adopt the " words " of the quartos. Cf. iii. 2. 75 below : " more 
in word than matter ;" which may, however, be spurious. At any rate, 
as F. remarks, word seems more Shakespearian than words. 

Wield=mznzge, express ; the matter being " too weighty to be con- 
veyed in mere words " (Wr.). 

49. Space. Space in general, the world; as liberty is the freedom to 
enjoy it (Schmidt). 

54. Beyond all manner, etc. " Beyond all assignable quantity : I 
love you beyond limits, and cannot say it is so much, for how much so- 
ever I should name, it would yet be more " (Johnson). But so much 
seems to refer to the comparisons just made, as Wr. explains it. 

55. What shall Cordelia speak? The folio reading, retained by K., 
Coll., and F. ; the quarto, which is generally followed, has "do" for speak. 
As F. remarks, the choice of readings, apart from authority, depends on 
whether we take love and be silent as imperative or not. 

57. Shadoivy. " Shady " (the quarto reading). Cf. T. G. of V. v. 4. 2 : 
"This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods." 

For champaigns = plains, cf. T. N. ii. 5. 174 : " Daylight and champaign 
discovers not more." The word is an adjective in R. of L. 1247 : "like 
a goodly champaign plain." The old spelling was often " champian " 
(as in the folio in T. N.) or " champion " (as in the later folios here). 

RicJi'd ( = enriched) is used by S. nowhere else. The quartos omit 
with champaigns ric/i'd, With plenteous rivers. 

61. Cornwall. The quartos add "speake," which most editors adopt. 



ACT I. SCENE I. 



167 



62. Self. Cf. iv. 3. 34 below : " one self mate." See also T. N p. 121 
or Hen. V. p. 144. Gr. 20. The 1st quarto reads "Sir, I am made of 
the selfe same (" selfe-same " in 2d quarto) mettall that my sister is." In 
T. N.\. 1. 39, the 1st folio has self the later folios selfsame. 

63. And prize me, etc. " And I reckon myself equal to her in amount 
of affection " (Clarke). Mason would read " prize you," etc., " that is, 
set the same high value on you that she does." 

64. Nantes my very deed of love. Describes my love in very deed, or 
just as it is. 

65. That. In that, because. See Gr. 284. 

67. Which the most precious square of sense professes. The folio read- 
ing ; the quartos have " possesses." The choice between the two de- 
pends on the meaning of square of sense, which it is not easy to make 
out. Warb. thought it referred to " the four nobler senses, sight, hear- 
ing, taste, and smell." Johnson says: "Perhaps square means only 
compass, comprehension.' 1 '' Edwards makes it " the full complement of" 
all the senses ;" Moberly, " the choicest estimate of sense ;" Wr., " the 
most delicately sensitive part of my nature." Schmidt, in his Lexicon, 
makes sqttare=" rule, regularity, just proportion," if we read professes 
(as he does in his ed. of the play), and paraphrases the line thus : " which 
the soundest sense acknowledges as joys." If we read possesses, he would 
make square— ^ compass, range (?)<," The objection to all these inter- 
pretations is that they do not so much find a meaning in square as force 
one upon it. If S. wrote the word, it must have one of these meanings — 
rule, estimate, compass, or range ; but we suspect some corruption. 
The Coll. MS. has "sphere," and Sr. reads "spacious sphere ;" but the 
emendations are not to our mind. For a fuller discussion of the enigma 
we must refer the reader to F., who has a full page of fine print upon it. 
He, by the way, reads professes, and remarks : " Whatever meaning or 
no-meaning we may attach to square of sense, it seems clear to me that 
Regan refers to the joys which that square professes to bestow." 

68. Felicitate. Made happy; the only instance of the word in S. Gr. 
342. 

71. More ponderous. The quartos have "more richer," which is gen- 
erally adopted. Wr. says that the folio reading " has the appearance of 
being a player's correction to avoid a piece of imaginary bad grammar ;" 
but it was not considered bad grammar at that time. See Gr. 11. F., 
who reads more ponderous, quotes Schmidt : "Light was the usual term 
applied to a wanton, frivolous, and fickle love ; ' light o' love ' was a pro- 
verbial expression. But the opposite of this, heavy, could not be here 
employed, because that means uniformly, in a moral sense, melancholy, 
sad ; nor is weighty any better ; therefore S. chose ponderous.'^ 

74. Validity. Value. See R. and J. p. 189 or T. N. p. 120. 

76. Our last and least. The folio reading, adopted by K., Sr., W., and 
F. The quartos have "the last, not least, in our deere love." Cf. J. C. 
iii. I. 189 : " Though last, not least in love." Malone quotes The Span- 
ish Tragedy, written before 1593 : " The third and last, not least, in our 
account." St. adds examples of the expression from Peele, Middleton, 
and B. and F. W. remarks : " Plainly this passage was rewritten before 



^8 NOTES. 

the folio was printed. The last part of 82, as it appears in the quartos, 
shows that the figurative allusion to the King of France and the Duke 
of Burgundy could have formed no part of the- passage when that text 
was printed. And in the rewriting there was a happy change made from 
the commonplace of 'last not least' to an allusion to the personal traits 
and family position of Cordelia. The impression produced by all the 
passages in which she appears or is referred to is, that she was her fa- 
ther's little pet, while her sisters were big, bold, brazen beauties. After- 
wards, in this very scene, Lear says of her to Burgundy : ' If aught with- 
in that little seeming substance, or all of it, with our displeasure pieced? 
etc. When she is dead, too, her father, although an infirm old man, 
'fourscore and upward,' carries her body in his arms. Cordelia was ev- 
idently the least, as well as the youngest and best beloved, of the old 
king's daughters; and therefore he says to her, 'Now our joy, what can 
you say to justify my intention of giving you the richest third of the king- 
dom, although you are the youngest born and the least royal in your 
presence ?' The poet's every touch upon the figure of Cordelia paints 
her as, with all her firmness of character, a creature to nestle in a man's 
bosom, — her father's or her husband's — and to be cherished almost like 
a little child; and this happy after-thought brings the picture into perfect 
keeping, and at the very commencement of the drama impresses upon 
the mind a characteristic trait of a personage who plays an important 
part in it, although she is little seen." As F. says, "if last, not least was 
a hackneyed phrase in Shakespeare's time, it is all the more reason why 
it should not be used here." 

77. Milk. A metonymy for pastures. Moberly remarks : " In ascrib- 
ing vines to France, and not to Burgundy, S. may have thought of the 
pastoral countries of Southern Belgium as forming part of Burgundy (as 
they did till the death of Charles the Bold, 1477), otherwise we should 
not understand the distinction ; as in the French Burgundy wine-grow- 
ing was of very old standing ; the arms of Dijon and Beaune have a vine 
upon them, and a great insurrection of vine-dressers took place there in 
1630. — Michelet, Hist, de France, ii. 303." The quartos omit The vines 
. . . interest 'd. 

78. Interess^d. Jennens's reading, adopted by the editors generally. 
The folio has "interest," which Schmidt retains, considering it a con- 
tracted form of interested (Gr. 342). Steevens quotes Drayton's Polyol- 
bion, preface : " he is someway or other by his blood interessed therein ;" 
and B. J., Sejanus, iii. 1 : 

" but that the dear republic, 
Our sacred laws, and just authority 
Are interess'd therein, I should be silent." 

Wr. adds examples of iiiteressed from Massinger, Florio, and Minsheu. 

80. Nothing, my lord. Coleridge remarks : " There is something of 
disgust at the ruthless hypocrisy of her sisters, and some little faulty ad- 
mixture of pride and sullenness in Cordelia's ' Nothing;' and her tone is 
well contrived, indeed, to lessen the glaring absurdity of Lear's conduct, 
but answers the yet more important purpose of forcing away the atten- 
tion from the nursery-tale the moment it has served its end, that of sup- 



ACT I. SCENE I. 



169 



plying the canvas for the picture. This is also materially furthered by 
Kent's opposition, which displays Lear's moral incapability of resigning 
the sovereign power in the very act of disposing of it. Kent is, perhaps, 
the nearest to perfect goodness in all Shakespeare's characters, and yet 
the most individualized. There is an extraordinary charm in his blunt- 
ness, which is that only of a nobleman, arising from a contempt of over- 
strained courtesy, and combined with easy placability where goodness of 
heart is apparent. His passionate affection for, and fidelity to, Lear act 
on our feelings in Lear's own favour ; virtue seems to be in company 
with him." 

Mr. W. W. Lloyd observes : " The crudity of manners expressed in 
Lear's solicitation of flattery has its natural counterpart in the almost sul- 
len and repulsive tone of the virtue which preserves Cordelia from the 
degradation he would tempt her to. The progress of the story required 
a reply that should provoke the indignation of her father, and yet not 
cause her to forfeit our esteem. . . . Moreover, S., it appears to me, de- 
signed to convey, by the very terms and rhythm of the speeches of Cor- 
delia, an impression that her speech was usually reserved and low and 
laconic, and thus that the very faculty was foreign to her that might have 
enabled her to effect the same result for her own dignity with milder 
method. Certain it is, and it is sufficiently declared in the sequel of the 
scene, that she took too little thought for the fact that her disinheriting 
was a greater misfortune to her father than to herself, and that to prevent 
it for his sake were worth incurring some misconstruction; this thought 
necessarily arises from the terms in which she commends her father, 
whose weakness she had not had the skill to humour honourably, to the 
sisters, whose natures she knows too well not to foresee their course, 
even without the irritation which the same weakness was sure to give oc- 
casion and welcome pretext for. This, then, is the incongruity of the 
social state on which the tragic action of the play depends ; and when 
Lear enters mad in the last scene, with Cordelia dead in his arms, we 
have but the fulfilment for either of the fate they equally provoked ; 
we behold the common catastrophe of affection too much qualified by 
unreasonable anger on one side, and unaccommodating rigour on the 
other." 

83. Nothing will come of nothing. An allusion to the old maxim, Ex 
nihil nihil fit. Cf. i. 4. 124 below. 

86. According to my bond. According to my duty, as I am bound by 
filial obligation. Cf. A. W. i. 3. 194 : 

" Cotmtess. Love you my son ? 

" Helena. Do not you love him, madam? 

" Countess. Go not about ; my love hath in 't a bond 
Whereof the world takes note." 

87. Mend. For the antithesis of mend and mar, cf. V. and A. 478, 
R. of L. 578, and Sonn. 103. 10. On make and mar, see R. and J. p. 146. 

90. As are right fit. Abbott (Gr. 384) makes this elliptical, =" as (they) 
are right fit (to be returned) ;" but, as F. suggests, it may be an instance 
of the relative use of as (Gr. 280). Cf. i. 4. 57 below. M. explains the\ 
plural are as used by attraction to the word duties, the regular construe- 



I7 o NOTES. 

tion being " as is fit." But common as is the expression as is fit, we be- 
lieve it does not occur in S. 

93. Love you all. Give you all their love. For the adverbial use of 
all ( = altogether), see Gr, 28. 

94. Plight. Pledge, troth ; the only instance of the noun in this sense 
in S., though the verb (see iii. 4. 114 below) occurs several times. Wr. 
says: "The A. S.pliht corresponds to the other meaning of the word, 
which occurs in T. and C. iii. 2. 168." But surely the A. S. pliht also 
means pledge, and this plight is etymologically the same as the other. 

97. To love my father all. The words are found only in the quartos. 

103. Mysteries. The reading of the 2d folio; the 1st has "miseries," 
and the quartos "mistresse." 

Hecate. A dissyllable ; as regularly in S. except in 1 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 
64. Wr. remarks that this is " a significant fact as regards Shakespeare's 
share in that play." It would not of itself, however, settle the question ; 
for Milton uses Hecate both as a dissyllable (Comzes, 135) and as a trisyl- 
lable (Id. 535). See Mack p. 222. 

104. Operation of the orbs. An astrological allusion. The latter folios 
(followed by H.) read "operations." 

105. Whom. For who used of inanimate objects personified, see Gr. 
264. 

109. The barbarous Scythian. Wr. cites Purchas, Pilgrimage, ed. 1614, 
p. 396 : " These customes were generall to the Scythians in Europe and 
Asia (for which cause Scytharum facinora patrare, grew into a prouerbe 
of immane crueltie, and their Land was iustly called Barbarous) : others 
were more speciall and peculiar to particular Nations Scythian." Cf. 
T. A. i. 1. 131 : " Was ever Scythia half so barbarous ?" 

110. Makes his generation messes. Devours his children. F 'or genera- 
&'0/2=progeny, cf. W. T. ii. 1. 148, Rich. II. v. 5. 8, T. and C. iii. 1. 146 (cf. 
Matt. iii. 7), etc. 

in. To my bosom. Omitted in the quartos. 

113. Sometime. For the adjective use (=former, whilom), cf. Rich. II. 
v. 1.37, Ham. i. 2. 8, etc. Sometimes was similarly used ; as in Rich. II. 
i. 2. 54, v. 5. 75, etc. See Gr. 68a. 

115. Dragon. M. remarks : " A natural trope for Lear to use, as, like 
Arthur, he would wear a helmet, 

'On which for crest the golden dragon clung 
For Britain.' " 

Wrath is put by metonymy for the object of the wrath. 

116. To set my rest. The expression is evidently suggested by the 
card-playing phrase set zip my rest (see M. of V. p. 139), though with a 
reference also to the sense of rest= repose. For a similar instance, see 
R.and % v. 3. no: 

° " O, here 

Will I set up my everlasting rest;" 

and see our ed. p. 215. 

Set up my rest was the usual phrase in the game of primero, and, as F. 
notes, the one elsewhere used by S.; but we find set my rest in Minsheu's 
Dialogues, 1599. The following extract from a dialogue illustrating the 






ACT I. SCENE I. I7I 

game shows that some of its technicalities were much like those of cer- 
tain games still in vogue : " O. Let the cardes come to me, for I deale 
them ; one, two, three, fower, one, two, three, fower. M. Passe. R. Passe. 
L. Passe. O. I set so much. M. I will none. R. lie none. Z. I must 
of force see it ; deale the cards. M. Giue me fower cards ; He see as 
much as he sets. R. See heere my rest ; let euery one be in. M. I am 
come to passe againe. R. And I too. Z. I do the selfe same. O. I set 
my rest. M. He see it. R. I also. Z. I cannot giue it ouer. M. I was 
a small prime. Z. I am flush." 

117. Hence, and avoid my sight! It has been disputed whether this is , 
addressed to Cordelia or Kent. Heath, Delius, Clarke, and H. say 
Kent; Rowe, Jennens, Malone, Wr., and F. say Cordelia, and W. is in- 
clined to agree with them. The only reason given for the former view is 
that Cordelia does not go out, as, it is said, she would be likely to do 
upon such a command ; but neither does Kent obey the order, and Cor- 
delia would perhaps be no more likely to leave at the first impatient 
word of her father. Before she has fairly time to go, the order is given 
to call in France to take her if he will. 

119. Who stirs? Delius takes this to be a threat, to frighten the by- 
standers from any chance opposition. M. says : " The courtiers seem 
unwilling to obey a command so reckless.'' F., with a finer insight, 
asks : " May it not be that the circle of courtiers are so horror-struck at 
Lear's outburst of fury, and at Cordelia's sudden and impending doom, 
that they stand motionless and forget to move ? This is one of Shake- 
speare's touches, like old Capulet's calling Juliet 'you tallow-face,' to be 
interpreted by reading between the lines." 

121. Digest. Metaphorically=enjoy, as Schmidt makes it, rather than 
" incorporate," as Wr. gives it. 

122. Marry her. Get her a husband. 

124. Effects. "The outward attributes of royalty, everything that fol- 
lows in its train" (Wr.). CiR.ofL. 1555: "Such devils steal effects 
from lightless hell," etc. 

128. Only. For the transposition, see Gr. 420. Cf. M.for M. iii. 1, 
163, Much Ado, iii. 1. 23, iv. 1. 323, Z. Z. Z. i. 1. 51, A. Y. L. i. 2. 204, 
etc. 

129. Addition. Titular honour. Most editors adopt the " additions " 
of the quartos, but cf. ii. 2. 21 below, where the singular, as the context 
shows, refers to a multiplicity of titles. See also v. 3. 68. Cf. Macb. 
p. 164. 

130. Revenue. Accented by S. on the first or second syllable, as suits 
the measure. See M. N. D. p. 125. 

Of the rest (needlessly changed by Warb. to " of th' best ") is antitheti- 
cal to The name, etc., and includes all powers and attributes not thus re- 
served. 

132. Coronet. Probably = crown ; as in 1 Hen. VI. v. 4. 134. Delius 
takes it to mean the ducal coronet, not Lear's own crown. 

136. Make from. Go from, get away from. Cf. make to ( V. and A. 5, 
C. of E. i. 1. 93), make for ( W. T. iv. 4. 554) v etc. So with adverbs ; as 
make forth {J. C.v.i. 25), ?nake tip {K. John', iii. 2. 5), etc. 



I7 2 NOTES. 

137. The fork. That is, the barbed arrow-head. Wr. quotes Ascham, 
who says, in his Toxophilus, that Pollux describes two kinds of arrow- 
heads : " The one he calleth ojkivoq, descrybynge it thus, hauyng two 
poyntes or barbes, lookyng backewarde to the stele and the fethers, which 
surely we call in Englishe a brode arrowe head or a swalowe tayle. The 
other he calleth yXco^iQ, hauying .ii. poyntes stretchyng forwarde, and this 
Englysh men do call a forkehead." 

Wr. thinks that invade is used in " its literal sense " (from Latin inva- 
do), but it may be a simple metaphor. Cf. hi. 4. 7 below. The only other 
instances of the word in S. are v. 1. 25 below and Hen. V. i. 2. 136. 

139. What wouldst thou do ? " This is spoke on seeing his master put 
his hand to his sword" (Capell). 

142. Falls. The quartos have "stoops;" and "Reuerse thy doome" 
for Reserve thy state. Most of the editors (except K., Delius, Sr., Schmidt, 
and F.) follow the quartos here; but F. ably defends the folio reading: 
" Kent is such a noble fellow that we who know Cordelia's truthfulness 
and honesty, and have heard her words spoken aside, cannot but think 
that he is here pleading her cause. But I am afraid we are too hasty. 
Kent is pleading, not for Cordelia, but for Lear himself; he has not as 
yet made the slightest allusion to Cordelia. When Lear denounces her, 
Kent, who sees that Lear is crushing the only chance of future happiness, 
starts forward with ' Good my liege ;' but before he can utter another word 
Lear interrupts him, and interprets his exclamation as an intercession for 
Cordelia ; and we fall into the same error, so that when Kent speaks 
again we keep up the same illusion, whereas all that he now says breathes 
devotion to the king, and to no one else. The folly to which majesty 
falls is not the casting off of a daughter, — that is no more foolish in a 
king than in a subject, — but it is the surrendering of revenue, of sway, 
and of the crown itself, — this is hideous rashness, this is power bowing to 
flattery. Hence, Kent entreats Lear ' to reserve his state.' And to show 
still more conclusively that Lear, and not Cordelia, is chiefly in his 
thoughts, in his very next speech he says that the motive for which he 
now risks his life is the safety of the king. Furthermore, when Lear has 
been turned out of doors and his daughters have usurped all his powers, 
Gloucester (iii. 4. 152) says, 'Ah that good Kent ! He said it would be 
thus,' which cannot well refer to any other passage than the present. 
Moreover, had Kent been so devoted to Cordelia as to suffer banishment 
for her sake, would he not have followed her to France rather than fol- 
lowed as a servant his great patron whom he had thought on in his 
prayers? It need scarcely be added that 'reserve thy state' means 're- 
tain thy royal dignity and power.' " 

144. Answer my life, etc. " That is, let my life be answerable for my 
judgment, or I will stake my life on my opinion" (Johnson). For the 
subjunctive "used optatively or imperatively," see Gr. 364. 

147. Reverts. Probably the poet's own contraction of reverberates, as 
no other instance of the word has been found. 

149. Wage. Stake, set as a wager. Cf. Cymb. i. 4. 144 : " I will wage 
against your gold, gold to it." In Ham. v. 2. 154, the folios have " waged." 
the quartos "wagered." 



ACT I. SCENE I. I7 

152 Blank. "The white ox exact mark at which the arrow is shot. 

See better, says Kent, < and keep me always in vour view ' " (Tohnson) 

See Ham. p. 243. " VJ >' 

154. Swear* st. Elsewhere S. has swear by in this sense ; but such 
omission of prepositions after other verbs is common enough See Gr 
200 For miscreant the quartos have « recreant." Wr. thinks it possi- 
ble that miscreant is used "with some sense of its original meaning of 
misbeliever, after Kent's contemptuous reference to the gods." 

155. Dear sir, forbear. Omitted in the quartos. 

157. Revoke thy gift. Here the quartos read " doome " for rift See 
on 142 above. &J 

■ 159. Recreant. The quartos omit the word here. 
„ if?- Stra f n ^- Exaggerated, excessive; as in 2 Hen. IV. i. 1 161 • 
^ lhis strained passion doth you wrong, my lord." The quartos have 
boundl" J° hl »son takes to mean "exorbitant, passing due 

163. Betwixt. The quartos have "between," but in 132 above "be- 
twixt for between. The same words are often interchanged in the quar- 
to and folio texts of Richard III. & 4 

164. Nor . ;> . nor. Often used by S. for neither . . . nor; as in Rich. 
II. 11 3. 170, 111. 2. 64, v. 5. 39 ; Macb. i. 7. 51, v. 5. 48, etc. We sometimes 
nnd three or more parts thus joined; as in R. and J. ii. 2. 40, Oth. iii. 4. 

165 Our potency made good, etc. " As a proof that I am not a mere 
tnreatener, that I have power as well as will to punish, take the due re- 
ward of thy demerits ; hear thy sentence " (Malone). The 2d quarto has 

make for made. 
_ 167. Diseases. Dis-eases, discomforts. Cf. 1 Hen. VI. ii. c 44: "And 
in that ease I '11 tell thee my disease ;" T. of A. iii. 1. 56 : " Thou disease 
of a friend, and not himself!" Cf. also the verb (=make uneasy, dis- 
turb) m Cor. 1. 3. 117 : " she will but disease our better mirth." See also 
Macb ? 249 note on Will cheer me, etc. The folios have "disasters," 
which K., Delius, and W. adopt. 

169. Tenth. The Coll. MS. has "seventh." 

171. Away! etc. Dr. Bucknill says: "Lear's treatment of Kent; his 
ready threat in reply to Kent's deferential address ; his passionate inter- 
ruptions and reproaches ; his attempted violence, checked by Albany and 
Cornwall ; and, finally, the cruel sentence of banishment, cruelly ex- 

disea 6 " ^ the a ° tS ° f a man ' m wh ° m P assion has become 

173. Sit*. The 1st quarto has "Since," which is derived from silk. 
^ee VVb. Ihe intermediate form, sithence, occurs in A. W. i. -x. 124 and 
Cor. 111. 1. 47. ° ^ 

174. Freedom. The quartos have " Friendship ;" and in 171; " protec- 
tion for dear shelter and "the" for thee. In 176 they transpose justly 
and rightly, and have " thinks " for think' st. 

« ^ 75 ^ Ha " m ^, r ' followed b y most editors, inserts here the stage-direction 
lo Cordelia and at 177 " To Gon. and Regan ;" but the text makes it 
sufficiently clear who is addressed. 



i74 



NOTES. 



177. And your large speeches, etc. "And may your acts substantiate 
your ample protestations " (Clarke). 

180. Course. Wr. says there is "evidently" a play on corse; but we 
agree with F. that there is no reason for supposing such a quibble here. 

181. Here 's. For is before a plural subject, see Gr. 335. The folios 
give this speech to Cordelia. 

183. Address tozvard. Address ourselves to. We find tozvard with ad- 
dress = direct, in L. L. L. v. 2. 92 : 

"Toward that shade I might behold address' d 
The king and his companions." 

184. Hath rivalPd. Hath been a rival or competitor; the only in- 
stance of the verb in S. 

In the least. At the least. In ii. 4. 135 below it is used as now = in 
the smallest degree. These, we believe, are the only examples of the 
phrase in S. 

189. So. That is, worthy of such a dowry. There is a kind of play 
on dear, as the next line shows : when she was dear in love we held her 
dear in price. 

191. Little-seeming. Little in appearance. See on 76 above. The 
hyphen is not in the early eds., and is perhaps not absolutely necessary. 
Johnson made seeming—" beautiful;" and Steevens, "specious." 

192. Piedd. That is, pieced out. Cf. iii. 6. 2 below. 

193. Like. Please. See Ham. p. 202. Cf. ii. 2. 84 below : " His coun- 
tenance likes me not." 

195. Owes. Owns, possesses; as often. Cf. i. 4. 114 below; and see 
Macb. pp. 162, 167, 200, 251. 

197. Stranger 1 d. Estranged, alienated. For verbs from nouns and 
adjectives, see Gr. 294. 

199. Makes not up. Comes to no decision (Schmidt). For in the 
quartos have "on." 

202. Make such a stray. Go so far astray. For the ellipsis of as, see 
Gr. 281, and cf. 210 just below. 

203. Beseech. For the omission of the subject, see Gr. 401. 

204. Avert. Turn ; the only instance of the verb in S. Aversion he 
does not use at all. 

For the double comparative in more worthier, see Gr. 11. The quartos 
have " Most best, most dearest " in 209 below. Wr. thinks that here, as 
in 71, " the folios have patched the grammar ;" but, if so, why did they 
not in more worthier as well ? 

207. Best object. The 1st folio omits best, and the Coll. MS. has "blest." 
Schmidt believes that best is an interpolation, as object is often used with- 
out an adjective to denote " what one has always in his eye, or seeks out 
with his eye, the delight of his eye." Cf. V. and A. 255 : " The time is 
spent, her object will away." See also Id. 822, M. N. D. iv. 1. 174, T. of A. 
iv. 3. 122, etc. 

208. Argument. Theme, subject ; as in ii. 1. 8 below. See Much Ado, 
pp. 123, 135. 

209. In this trice oj time. We still use the expression " in a trice " 
(T. JV. iv. 2. 123, etc.). " On a trice " occurs in Temp. v. 1. 238. 



ACT I. SCENE I. I75 

210. Dismantle. Elsewhere in S. the object of the verb is that from 
which anything is stripped, as in modern usage. Cf. W. T. iv. 4. 66 and 
Ham. iii. 2. 293. 

212. Such . . . that. Cf. ii. 2. 114 below : "such a deal of man that 
worthied him ;" and see Gr. 279. 

213. Monsters. Makes monstrous; as in Cor. ii. 2. 81 : "To hear my 
nothings monster'd." See on 197 above. 

214. Fair 11. The quarto reading ; the folios have " Fall." Must be is 
understood ; or must with the folio reading. FalVn into taiut=hecome. 
tainted. Malone paraphrases the passage thus : " Either her offence 
must be monstrous, or, if she has not committed any such offence, the 
affection which you always professed to have for her must be tainted and 
decayed." 

217. For. Because; as in i. 2. 5 below. See M. of V. p. 134, note on 
For he is a Christian. See Gr. 151, 387. 

220. Nor other foulness. The quartos have "murder or" or "murder, 
or," and the folios "murther, or." The emendation in the text is from 
the Coll. MS. and is adopted by Sr. and F. The editors generally follow 
the early text, though with more or less distrust of it. D. calls it " a very 
suspicious reading ;" and Halliwell says that " most readers will agree 
with" him. St. considers nor other "certainly a very plausible substitu- 
tion." W., in his Shakespeare 1 s Scholar, says that " murther is an easy 
and undeniable mistake for nor other f but in his ed. of S. decides that 
the old text is right. M. remarks : " There seems good reason for adopt- 
ing Collier's reading ; the gradation ' vicious blot, murder, foulness ' 
would not be happy. Moreover, from the parallel expression, ' vicious 
mole of nature,' in Ham. i. 4. 24, we may conclude that in this line Cor- 
delia refers to natural defects, which Lear might be supposed to have 
just discovered ; but in the next line to evil actions from all suspicions 
of which she wishes to be cleared." F. agrees with M. as to the grada- 
tion in "vicious blot, murder, foulness," and adds: "This alone is so 
un-Shakespearian that of itself it would taint the line. . . . And mark 
how admirably the lines are balanced: 'vicious blot or other foulness,' 
' unchaste action or dishonour'd step.' " H. admits that " murder seems 
a strange word to be used here ;" but suspects that Cordelia purposely 
uses it " out of place, as a glance at the hyperbolical absurdity of de- 
nouncing her as 'a wretch whom Nature is asham'd to acknowledge.'" 
By " out of place " we presume he refers to its being used in the speech, 
not to its strange position between blot and foulness, to which M. and F. 
refer, and which, to our thinking, settles the question beyond a doubt. 
We can conceive of Cordelia's using the word in the way that H. sug- 
gests (indeed, it seems to us the best explanation of her using it — if she 
did use it — that has been offered), but not of her putting it so preposter- 
ously " out of place " in the speech. One has only to read the line, 
giving murder the sarcastic tone which this explanation requires, in or- 
der to see how awkwardly it comes in at that point. 

221. Unchaste. The quartos read "vncleane." 

223. But even for want, etc. "The construction is imperfect though 
the sense is clear. We should have expected 'even the want' as Han- 



I7 6 NOTES. 

mer reads, but S. was probably guided by what he had written in the line 
preceding, and mentally supplied ' I am deprived.' There is an obscurity 
about for which. It would naturally mean 'for having which,' but here 
it must signify ' for wanting which' " (Wr.). 

224. Still- soliciting. Ever-begging. Cf. still '-vexed in Temp. i. 2. 229, 
and still-closing in Id. hi. 3. 64; and see our ed. pp. 117, 133. See also 
M. of V. p. 128 and Gr. 69. 

225. That. The quartos have " As." See on 212 above. 

226. Hath lost me. Hath caused me to lose. Cf. i. 2. 104 below : " It 
shall lose thee nothing." See also T.N. ii. 2. 21 : "That sure me- 
thought her eyes had lost her tongue," etc. In—\\\ respect to. Cf. Gr. 
162. 

Better thou. The quartos read " Goe to, goe to, better thouV,' 
229. Unspoke. The only instance of the form in S. UnspoJzen occurs 
only in Cymb. v. 5. 139. 

231. Love 'j- not love, etc. Cf. Sonn. 96. 

232. Regards. Considerations ; as in Ham. ii. 2. 79, iii. 1. 87, etc. The 
quartos have " respects." Both the quartos and the folios have stands. 
The relative often " takes a singular verb, though the antecedent be 
plural " (Gr. 247). Cf. ii. 4. 269 below : " If it be you that stirs," etc. 

233. Entire point. Main point; as Schmidt and M. explain it. John- 
son defines main as "single, unmixed with other considerations." 

241. Respects of. Considerations of; the quarto reading. The folio 
has " respect and." For respects, see Ham. p. 226, or K. John, p. 158. 
247. Coldest. For the contracted superlative, see Gr. 473. 

251. Waterish. Used contemptuously; as in the only other instance 
in S. Cf. Oth. iii. 3. 15 : "nice and waterish diet." As Wr. notes, Bur- 
gundy was the best-watered district of France. He quotes Heylyn, A 
Little Description of the Great World: "That which Queene Katharine 
was wont to say, that France had more rivers than all Europe beside; 
may in like manner be said of this Province in respect of France." 

252. Unpriz'd. Not prized by others, unappreciated. Wr. suggests 
that it may mean priceless, as unvalued in Rich. III. i. 4. 27 means in- 
valuable; but the other sense gives us an antithesis (unprized by others, 
but precious to me) instead of a mere repetition of epithets. 

253. Unkind. Unnatural ; or combining that sense with the more 
familiar one. Cf. iii. 4. 69 below: "his unkind daughters." See T.N. 
p. 156. 

254. "Here and where have the power of nouns : Thou losest this 
residence to find a better residence in another place" (Johnson). 

258. Benison. Blessing. See M'acb. p. 205. 

261. Ye jewels. The early eds. have "The jewels," which may possibly 
be what S. wrote ; but The and Ye, being constantly written alike in that 
day, were liable to be confounded by the printer, and probably were here. 
The emendation is due to Rowe, and is adopted by D., W., Halliwell, 
H., and F. 

Washed is often applied to tears ; as in Much Ado, i. 1. 27, iv. 1. 156, 
M. N. D. ii. 2. 93, 2 Hen. LV. iv. 5. 84, 87, R. and J. ii. 3. 70, iii. 2. 130, 
etc. 



ACT I. SCENE I. I77 

262. I know y on what you are. For the redundant object, see Gr. 414. 
Wr. compares Mark, i. 24. 

265. Professed bosoms. Professed love. Pope changed professed to 
"professing;" and Wr. makes it=" which had made professions" (cf. 
Gr. 374). But bosoms— dove ; as in v. 3. 50 below. Cf. M.for M. iv. 3. 
139: "And you shall have your bosom on this wretch" (that is, your 
heart's desire). See also W. T. iv. 4. 574 and Oth. iii. 1. 58. 

267. Prefer. Commend. Cf. J. C. v. 5. 62 : "Ay, if Messala will pre- 
fer me to you," etc. 

269. Prescribe not us. F. prints "not' us." It is true that elsewhere 
in S. we have prescribe to, but here tis may be a dative, as often. The 
quartos read " duties." They also give this speech to Goneril, and the 
next to Regan. 

271. At Fortune^s alms. At the charity or alms-giving of Fortune. 
Capell and Halliwell read " As " for At. Wr. takes at to be used as 
with nouns of price or value. The expression Fortune''s alms occurs 
again in Oth. iii. 4. 122. 

272. And well are worth the want, etc. And well deserve the want 
that you have brought upon yourself {want being a "cognate accusa- 
tive") ; or it may mean "and well deserve the want of that affection in 
which you yourself have been wanting" (Wr.). The quartos read "are 
worth the worth that you have wanted." 

273. Plighted. Folded. The quartos have " pleated " or " pleeted," 
and some modern eds. " plaited." Cf. Milton, Comus, 301 : " the plighted 
clouds." Wr. quotes Spenser, F. Q. ii. 3. 26 : " with many a folded 
plight." We have the participle in Id. iii. 9. 21 : "her well-plighted 
frock;" and in the contracted form plight in Id. vi. 7. 43 : "And on his 
head a roll of linnen plight." 

274. Cover. All the early eds. have " couers," which may possibly be 
what S. wrote. See on 232 above. For shame them the folios have 
" with shame," which Capell, K., Sr., and Schmidt adopt. Henley sees 
an allusion to Prov. xxviii. 13. 

284. Grossly. Palpably, evidently (Schmidt) ; as in C. of E. ii. 2. 171, 
A. W. i.3. 184, etc. 

287. Of his time. Of his life. Cf. M. of V. i. 1. 129 : "my time some- 
thing too prodigal," etc. See also i. 2. 41 below. 

289. long-ingraffed. The quartos have " long ingrafted." S. uses 
both graff and graft. See A. Y. L. p. 171, note on Graff. Long-ingraffed 
conditio7i=" qualities of mind confirmed by long habit" (Malone). For 
condition, cf. iv. 3. 33 below ; and see Oth. pp. 175, 198. 

292. Unconstant. Capricious. For the form, see K. John, p. 156. 
Gr. 442. For lihe=hke.]y, see Ham. p. 186. 

M. remarks : " These women come of themselves, and at once, to the 
feeling which it requires all Iago's art to instil into Othello; on whom it 
is at length urged that Desdemona must be irregular in mind, or she 
would not have preferred him to the 'curled darlings' of Venice." 

295. Hit. Agree; the quarto reading. The folios have "sit," which 
Rowe, Pope, Hanmer, Capell, K., and Schmidt adopt. 

297. Offend. Injure; as in M. of V. iv. 1. 140 : "Thou but offend'st 

M 



*7< 



NOTES. 



thy lungs to speak so loud," etc. The meaning seems to be : if the king 
goes on in this way, " snatching back his authority the moment his will 
is crossed, we shall be the worse off for his surrender of the kingdom to 
us" (H.). 

299. /' the heat. " While the iron is hot," as the proverb hath it. 

Scene II. — 1. Thou, Nature, etc. Warb. saw atheism in this; but, 
as Steevens remarks, Edmund speaks of nature in opposition to custom, 
and not to the existence of a God. Cf. 17 below. 

3. Stand in the plague. If this is what S. wrote (and no satisfactory 
emendation has been suggested), it must mean, as Capell explained it, 
" be exposed to " the plague, or vexation. Warb. would read " plage " == 
place, and St. thinks that plague may possibly be = the Latin plaga, place 
or boundary ; but this is very improbable. Wr. suggests that S. had in 
mind a passage in the Prayer-Book version of Psa. xxxviii. 17 : "And I 
truly am set in the plague," where plague seems to follow the Latin of 
Jerome's translation, " Quia ego ad plagam paratus sum." 

4. Curiosity. "Over-nice scrupulousness" (Steevens). See on i. 1. 5 
above. Curiosity, according to Walker, is pronounced curiousHy. Cf. 
B. and F., Nice Valour: "But I have ever had that curiosity." Cf. Gr. 

456. 

Deprive. "Disinherit" (Steevens and Schmidt). Cf. Warner, Albions 
England: "if whom ye have depriv'd, ye shall restore again." 

5. For that. Because that. See on i. 1. 217 above. 
Moonshines^ months ; like moons in Oth. i. 3. 84, A. and C. iii. 12. 16, 

etc. 

6. Lag of. Lagging behind, later than. Cf. Rich. III. ii. I. 90 : " That 
came too lag to see him buried." 

7. Compact. Compacted, put together. Cf. M. N.D. v. 1.8, A. Y. L. ii. 
7. 5, V. and A. 149, etc. See on i. 1. 68 above. 

13. Fine zuord, — legitimate! Omitted in the quartos. 

16. Top the. Capell's correction of the "tooth"' of the quartos and 
the " to' th' " or " to th' " of the folios. For ^0/ = overtop, rise above, see 
Macb. p. 239. 

19. Subscribed. Yielded, surrendered (Maloiie). Cf. Sonn. 107. 10 : 

" My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes, 
Since, spite of him, I '11 live in this poor rhyme, 
While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes." 

See also T. of S. i. 1. 81, T. and C. iv. 5. 105, etc. The folios have "pre- 
scribe," which Rowe, K., and Schmidt prefer. 

20. Confined to exhibition. Restricted to an allowance or mere main- 
tenance. Cf. T. G. of V. i. 3. 69 : 

"What maintenance he from his friends receives, 
Like exhibition shalt thou have from me." 

See also Oth. p. 166. Nares cites B. J., Silent Woman, iii. 1 : "Behave 
yourself distinctly, and with good morality ; or, I protest, I '11 take away 
your exhibition." 

21. Upon the gad. On the spur of the moment. 6W=goad, or an 



ACT I. SCENE II. 179 

iron-pointed rod used in driving cattle. In T. A. iv. I. 103, it means 
a stylus or pointed instrument for writing : 

" I will go get a leaf of brass, 
And with a gad of steel will write these words." 

27. Terrible. Affrighted. Cf. Gr. 3. 

32. Cer-read. Read over. See 2 Hen. IV. p. 173. So overlooking in 
next line=looking over. Cf. v. 1. 50 below; and see Ham. p. 253, or 
Hen. V. p. 160. For overlooking the quartos have " liking." 

36. Are to blame. Are to be blamed, are blamable ; as often. For 
active infinitives used passively, see Gr. 359, 405. 

39. Essay or taste. Trial or test. For essay, cf. Sonn. no. 8: "And 
worse essays prov'd thee my best of love." S. uses the word only twice, 
having elsewhere assay, of which it is only another form. As Steevens 
notes, both essay (or assay) and taste are terms from royal tables. For 
the custom of taking 'the assay (or say), see Rich. II. p. 220. For taste = 
try, cf. T. N. p. 147, or I Hen. IV. p. 189 (note on Take). 

40. Policy. " The frame of civil government in a state " (Schmidt) ; 
the established order of things. In his edition of the play Schmidt ex- 
plains policy and reverence as a hendiadys for " policy of holding in rev- 
erence ;" which perhaps is better. See on i. 4. 333 below. The quartos 
omit and reverence. 

41. The best of onr times. The best portions of our lives. See on i. 1. 
287 above. 

42. Oldness. Old age ; used by S. nowhere else. 

43. Idle and fond. "Weak and foolish" (Johnson). For fond, see 
M. N. D. p. 163, or M. of V. p. 152. 

Who. See on i. 1. 105 above. It is true that tyranny implies a person 
or persons, but the it shows that it is grammatically and rhetorically 
neuter. 

53. Closet. Private room, chamber. See Ham. p. 200 ; and cf. Matt. 
vi. 6. In iii. 3. 10 below it may have the same meaning, though Schmidt 
takes it to be used in the modern sense ; as in Macb. v. 1. 6 and Oth. iv. 
2. 22. 

54. Character. Handwriting ; as in ii. 1. 72 below. See also T. N. v. 
1. 354, W. T.v. 2. 38, Ham. iv. 7. 53, etc. F. remarks that the word is 
"always used by S. in the sense of writing or handwriting;" but we must 
except T N. i. 2. 51 and Cor. v. 4. 28. 

56. That. That is, the matter or contents (Wr.). 

64. Sons at perfect age. That is, being of age. Cf. Hen. VIII. v. I. 107 : 
"You a brother of us," etc. Gr. 381. For declined the quartos have 
"declining." 

68. Detested. Equivalent to detestable; as often. Cf. i. 4. 253 and ii. 4. 
212 below. See Gr. 375. 

69. I HI. The folios have "He" or "I'le;" the quartos "I," which 
Wr. takes to be = "ay," as often. 

74. Where. Whereas ; as often. See I Hen. IV. p. 187, or Gr. 134. 
77. Pawn down. That is, lay down as a pledge. Cf. Oth. iv. 2. 13 : "I 
durst . . . Lay down my soul at stake." 

Writ. The quartos have " wrote," a form seldom used by S. for either 



!8o NOTES. 






the past tense or the participle. For the former he has usually writ, for 
the latter writ or written. Cf. i. 4. 323, 326, ii. 1. 122 below. Gr. 343. 

78. Your honour. The usual address to a lord in the time of S. 
(Malone). Cf. Rich. III. iii. 2. 107, no, 116, etc. 

Pretence. " That is, design, purpose " (Johnson). Cf. i. 4. 67 below. 
See also Macb. p. 202. 

86. Nor is not, sure. The folios omit this speech, and To his father . . . 
and earth at the beginning of the next. Schmidt considers these latter 
words inconsistent with the whole character of Gloster, who never shows 
any fatherly feeling for Edgar until after he has driven him away. They 
are, he thinks, an interpolation by some sensational actor. 

88. Wind me into him. Insinuate yourself into his confidence. Cf. 
M. of V. i. 1. 154 : " To wind about my love with circumstance ;" and Cor. 
iii. 3. 64: "to wind Yourself into a power tyrannical." The me is the 
" ethical dative." See Gr. 220. 

90. Unstate myself Give up my state, sacrifice my fortune and posi- 
tion. Cf. A. and C. iii. 13. 30 : 

" Yes, like enough, high-battled Csesar will 
Unstate his happiness," etc. 

To be in a due resolution. To be fully resolved (see J. C. p. 158, or 
Rich. III. p. 224) or satisfied on this point. 

92. Convey. Manage artfully (Johnson). See Macb. p. 239, or Hen. V. 
p. 147. 

94. These late eclipses, etc. See p. 13 above. M. remarks : "As to the 
current belief in astrology, we may remember that, at the time when this 
play was written, Dr. Dee, the celebrated adept, was grieving for his lost 
patroness, Queen Elizabeth ; that the profligate court of James I. was in 
1 618 frightened by the appearance of a comet into a temporary fit of 
gravity ; and that even Charles I. sent ^500 as a fee to William Lilly for 
consulting the stars as to his flight from Hampton Court in 1647." Cf. 
So Jin. 107. 6 : 

"The mortal moon hath her eclipse endur'd, 
And the sad augurs mock their own presage!" 

See also Ham. i. 1. 120 and Oth. v. 2. 99. Milton has several allusions to 
the ominous nature of eclipses ; as in the grand image in P. L. i. 594 : 

"as when the sun new-risen. 
Looks through the horizontal misty air, 
Shorn of his beams ; or from behind the moon, 
In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds 
On half the nations, and with fear of change 
Perplexes monarchs." 

95. Though the wisdom of natttre, etc. " That is, though natural phi- 
losophy can give account of eclipses, yet we feel their consequences" 
(Johnson). M. remarks : " This curious view is repeated, with remark- 
able force of language, by Sir T. Browne, even in the less credulous times 
(Buckle, i. p. 336) when he wrote his Treatise o?i Vulgar Errors: 'That 
two suns or moons should appear, is not worth the wonder. But that 
the same should fall out at the point of some decisive action, that these 
two should make but one line in the book of fate, and stand together in 



ACT I. SCENE II. ^i 

the great Ephemerides of God, besides the philosophical assignment of 
the cause, it may admit a Christian apprehension in the signality' (i. 2). 
We learn also from Bishop Burnet that Lord Shaftesbury believed in 
astrology, and thought that the souls of men live in the stars." 

96. Sequent. Cf. A. W. ii. 2. 56 : " Indeed your ' O Lord, sir !' is very 
sequent to your whipping." See also Ham. v. 2. 54. 

99-104. This villain . . . our graves. Omitted in the quartos. 

101. Bias of nature. Natural tendency. The metaphor is taken from 
the game of bowls. See Rich. II. p. 197 (note on Rubs) or Ham. p. 200 
(note on Assays of bias). 

104. Disquietly. "Causing us disquiet" (Wr.). 

105. lose. See on i. 1. 226 above. 

108. This is the excellent foppery, etc. Warb. points out the satire 
which S. has directed against judicial astrology, and suggests that if the 
date of the first performance of Lear were well considered, "it would be 
found that something or other happened at that time which gave a more 
than ordinary run to this deceit, as these words seem to intimate : ' I am 
thinking, brother, of a prediction I read this other day, what should fol- 
low these eclipses.' " 

no. We make guilty, etc. Cf. J. C. i. 2. 140: 

" The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, 
But in ourselves, that we are underlings." 

Disasters (see its derivation in Wb.) is an astrological term. 

in. On necessity. As in the folios ; the quartos have "by necessity," 
which, according to Schmidt, is not found elsewhere in S. For on neces- 
sity, cf. L. L. L. i. 1. 149, 155. Cf. on (or upon) compulsion (M. of V. iv. 1. 
183, 1 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 261, T and C. ii. 2. 153) and by compulsio7i (here and 
in K. John, ii. 1. 218). Schmidt considers that " S. has an unmistakable 
preference for on and upon to express that which gives the motive or im- 
pulse to anything ;" but some of the examples he gives can be readily 
balanced by others in which other prepositions are used. For instance, 
he quotes "on constraint" from K. John, v. 1. 28; but we find "by con- 
straint" in A. W. iv. 2. 16. So against "upon instinct" in 1 Hen. IV. ii. 
4. 331, we may put "by instinct" in Rich. III. ii. 3. 42, etc. "On mal- 
ice " occurs in Rich. II. i. 1. 9 (perhaps on account of the " on some 
known ground," etc., which follows in the sentence), while elsewhere we 
have "through malice," "from malice," "out of malice," "with malice," 
"in malice," etc., some of these occurring several times each. 

112. Treachers. Traitors ; the folio reading, the quartos having " trech- 
erers." Nares quotes B. J., Every Man in his Humour, v. 10 : " O you 
treachour !" and B. and F., Bloody Brother, iii. 1 : " Treacher and coward 
both." Cf. Spenser, F. Q. i. 4. 41 : "No knight, but treachour, full of 
false despight ;" Id. ii. 1. 12 : " Where may that treachour then (sayd he) 
be found?" Spenser also has the form treachetour; as in F. Q.\\. 10. 51 : 

" In which the king was by a Treachetour 
Disguised slaine, ere any thereof thought ;" 

Id. vi. 8. 7 : "Abide, ye caytive treachetours untrew," etc. 

113. Spherical predominance. An astrological expression. Cf. predom- 
inant in A. IV. i. 1. 211 : 



182 



NOTES. 



" Hele7ia. The wars have so kept you under that you must needs have been born 
under Mars. 

" Parolles. When he was predominant. 

" Helena. When he was retrograde, I think, rather;" 

and W. T. i. 2. 202 : 

" It is a bawdy planet, that will strike 
Where 't is predominant." 

Influence is another astrological word, rarely (Schmidt says never, but 
see Sonn. 78. 10 and L. L. L. v. 2. 869) used by S. except with reference, 
direct or indirect, to the power of the heavenly bodies. See W. T. p. 162. 
Cf. Milton, P. L. iv. 669 : 

" which these soft fires 
Not only enlighten, but with kindly heat 
Of various influence foment and warm, 
Temper or nourish, or in part shed down 
Their stellar virtue on all kinds that grow 
On earth," etc. 

See also Id. vii. 375, viii. 513, ix. 107, x. 662, Co?nus, 336, VAIL 122, and 
Ode on Nativ. 71. So in Bacon, Ess. 9 : "And the Astrologers, call the 
evill Influences of the Starrs Evil Aspects" etc. Cf. Job, xxxviii. 31. 

116. Pat. Cf. Ham. iii. 3. 73, and see our ed, p. 233. 

Like the catastrophe, etc. "That is, just as the circumstance which de- 
cides the catastrophe of a play intervenes on the very nick of time, when 
the action is wound up to its crisis, and the audience are impatiently ex- 
pecting it" (Heath). 

117. Cite. See M. N. D. p. 156. The word is probably from the Fr. 
queue (see Wb.), and not from the first letter of quando (=when) as 
Wedgwood says, or of qualis, as Minsheu gives it. For another cue which 
is derived from the letter q, see Wb. or Nares. 

Like Tom o } Bedlam. That is, like a " Bedlam beggar," such as Edgar 
afterwards pretends to be. See ii. 3. 6-20 below. 

118. Fa, sol, la, mi. Dr. Burney says : " S. shows by the context that 
he was well acquainted with the property of these syllables in solmiza- 
tion, which imply a series of sounds so unnatural that ancient musicians 
prohibited their use. The monkish writers on music say: mi contra fa 
est diabolus : the interval fa mi, including a tritomis, or sharp 4th, con- 
sisting, of three tones without the intervention of a semitone, expressed 
in the modern scale by the letters F G A B, would form a musical phrase 
extremely disagreeable to the ear. Edmund, speaking of eclipses as por- 
tents and prodigies, compares the dislocation of events, the times being 
out of joint, to the unnatural and offensive sounds,/^ sol la mi." Wr., 
after quoting Dr. Burney, says : " For this note, Mr. Chappell assures 
me, there is not the slightest foundation. Edmund is merely singing to 
himself in order not to seem to observe Edgar's approach." M. remarks: 
" The true explanation probably is that the sequence_/«, sol, la, mi (with 
mi descending) is like a deep sigh, as may be easily heard by trial." 

125. Succeed. Follow, come to pass. Cf. success tissue, whether good 
or bad. See J. C. p. 151 or Oth. p. 186. 

126-132. As of unnaturalness . . . Come, cojtie. Omitted in the fo- 
lios. In proof that the lines are spurious Schmidt notes that they contain 



ACT I. SCENE III. 183 

six words used by S. nowhere else — unnaluralness, menace (noun), mal- 
ediction, dissipation, cohort, and astronomical. He might have added that 
sectary occurs only in Hen. VIII. v. 3. 70, a part of the play probably not 
written by S. 

127. Amities. For the plural, cf. Ham. v. 2. 42. 

129. Diffidences. Distrust, suspicions. Cf. K. John, i. 1. 65: "And 
wound her honour with this diffidence." S. uses the word only twice. 

Dissipation of cohorts. This would seem to mean the breaking up of 
military organizations ; but it is very likely either spurious or corrupt. 
Johnson (followed by Coll. in his 3d ed.) changed cohorts to "courts." 

142. With the mischief of your person. That is, even with harm to your 
person. Hanmer and Capell read " without " for with, and Johnson con- 
jectured "but with." 

143. Allay. For the intransitive use, cf. 3 Hen. VI. i. 4. 146 : " And when 
the rage allays, the rain begins." 

145. That 'j- my fear. The quartos add "brother," and omit the rest 
of this speech and the next. 

Have a continent forbearance. " Keep a forbearing restraint upon your- 
self" (Clarke). 

159. Harms. For the plural, cf. R. of L. 28, 1694, 1 Hen. VI. iv. 7. 46, 
T. A. v. 3. 148, etc. 

161. Practices. Plots, artifices. Cf. ii. 1. 73 below, and see Ham. p. 255. 

Scene III. — 1. Chiding of. For of with verbals, see Gr. 178. Cf. ii. 1. 
39 and v. 3. 204 below. 

3. Coleridge remarks of Oswald : "The steward should be placed in 
exact antithesis to Kent, as the only character of utter irredeemable base- 
ness in S. Even in this the judgment and invention of the poet are very 
observable ; for what else could the willing tool of a Goneril be ? Not a 
vice but this of baseness was left open to him." 

4. By day and night. Capell prints this as an exclamation, comparing 

Hen. VIII. i. 2. 212: le „ . , 

By day and night ! 

He's traitor to the height;" 

and Malone adds Ham. i. 5. 164: "O day and night! but this is won- 
drous strange." But here, as Wr. remarks, the every hour shows that the 
words are used in their ordinary sense. 

8. On every trifle. " On every trifling occasion " (Wr.). See on i. 2. 
113 above. In Temp. ii. 2. 8, we find " For every trifle." 

11. Answer. Cf. i. I. 144 above. 

15. Distaste. The quartos have "dislike." Cf. T. and C. ii. 2. 66: 
" Although my will distaste what it elected." For the intransitive use, 
see Oth. p. 189. 

17-21. Not . . . abused. Omitted in the folios. 

17. Idle. Weak, foolish ; as in i. 2. 43 above. 

18. Authorities. For the plural, cf. M.for M. iv. 4. 6 : " And why meet 
him at the gates, and redeliver our authorities there ?" See also Ham. p. 
243. 

21. With checks as flatteries, etc. This line has puzzled the critics, and 



1 84 NOTES. 

various emendations have been proposed, of which Schmidt's "With 
checks when flatteries are seen abus'd " is the simplest and least objec- 
tionable. Taking it as it stands, we may accept Tyrwhitt's explanation : 
"with checks, as well as flatteries, when they (that is, flatteries) are seen 
to be abused." 

25, 26. I would . . . may speak. Omitted in the folios. 

27. My very course. The very course I do. The folios omit very, and 
are followed by K., Sr., St., W., and others. 

Scene IV. — 2. Diffuse it. Disorder, and so disguise it, as he had dis- 
guised his dress (Steevens). Cf. Hen. V. v. 2. 61 : " diffus'd attire." 
There, as here and in Rich. III. i. 2. 78 (see our ed. p. 185), the early eds. 
spell the word defuse, which form Wr., Schmidt, and F. retain. Wr. cites 
instances of it from Lyly's Etiphues and Armin's Nest of AHnnies. On 
the other hand, the folio has "diffused" in M. W. iv. 4. 54: "some dif- 
fused song ;" where the word seems to mean wild or disordered. 

4. Raz'd. Erased. Cf. Sonn. 25. n : "from the book of honour razed 
quite," etc. 

6. So may it come. It may come to pass ; not a parenthetical wish, as 
Capell understood it. 

11. What dost thou profess ? What dost thou "set up for," what is thy 
profession, or calling? Cf. T. of S. ind. 2. 22: "by present profession a 
tinker." See also J. C. i. 1. 5, Ham. v. 1. 35, etc. Edgar, in his reply, 
plays upon the word. 

14. Converse. Have converse with, associate with. See A. Y. L. p. 
194. 

15. To eat 110 fish. That is, to be a Protestant. As Warb. remarks, to 
eat fish on account of religious scruples was in Queen Elizabeth's time 
the mark of a Papist and an enemy to the government. He quotes Mars- 
ton, Dutch Courtezan, i. 2 : "I trust I am none of the wicked that eat 
fish a Fridays ;" and Fletcher, Woman-Hater, iv. 2 : " He should not 
have eaten under my roof for twenty pounds ; and surely I did not like 
him when he called for fish." Capell thinks the meaning is simply that 
Kent is a jolly fellow and no lover of such meagre diet as fish. 

23. Who. For whom, as often. Gr. 274. 

31. Curious. Elegant or elaborate. Cf. Cymb.v. 5. 361 : "a most cu- 
rious mantle," etc. 

36. To love. That is, as to love. For the ellipsis, see Gr. 281, and cf. 
ii. 4. 12 below. 

45. Clotpoll. Clodpole, blockhead. It is used literally ( = head) in 
Cymb. iv. 2. 184 : " I have sent Cloten's clotpoll down the stream." 

52. Roundest. Bluntest, plainest. See He?z. V. p. 175, or T. N. p. 138. 
For the adverb, see Ham. p. 203. 

56. That . . . as. See on i. 1. 88 above. 

58. Appears. For the ellipsis of the relative, see Gr. 244. 

64. Rememberest. Remindest. Cf. K. John, iii. 4. 96: "Remembers 
me of all his gracious parts," etc. See also W. T p. 178. 

65. Most faint. Most slight ; as Wr. and F. explain it. Schmidt makes 
it = most languid or cold ; but this seems contradicted by the latter part 



ACT L SCENE IV. 185 

of the sentence. The neglect has been so faint that he has been doubtful 
whether it was intentional. 

66. Curiosity. "Scrupulous watchfulness of his own dignity" (Stee- 
vens). See on i. 1. 5 above. 

Very pretence. Actual intention. See on i. 2. 78 above. 

68. This two days. S. uses this or these interchangeably in such ex- 
pressions. See R. and J. p. 213. Gr. 87. 

70. The fool hath much pined away. As Clarke notes, there is much 
significance in this little speech and in Lear's rejoinder: "It serves to 
excite a tender interest in the boy-fool even before he enters, and to mark 
him at once as a creation apart from all other of Shakespeare's fools ; it 
serves to depict Cordelia's power of attaching and endearing those around 
her ; and it serves to denote her old father's already awakened conscious- 
ness that he has done her grievous injustice." 

81. Bandy. " A metaphor from tennis " (Steevens). Cf. R. and J. ii. 

5.14: 

" Had she affections and warm youthful blood, 
She would be as swift in motion as a ball ; 
My words would bandy her to my sweet love, 
And his to me;" 

L. L. L. v. 2. 29: " Well bandied both ; a set of wit well play'd," etc. F. 
quotes Cotgrave, Fr. Diet.: " Iouer a bander 6° a racier contre. To ban- 
dy against, at Tennis ; and (by metaphor) to pursue with all insolencie, 
rigour, extremitie." 

82. Strucken. The quartos have " struck " or " strucke." Cf. J. C. ii. 
2. 114: " Caesar, 't is strucken eight." See also Ham. p. 228. Gr. 344. 

83. Foot-ball player. M. says that the game was then " a somewhat 
vulgar recreation, practised by the London apprentices in Cheapside to 
the terror of respectable citizens." 

90. Earnest. Money paid in advance to bind the bargain. For plays 
upon the word, see W. T. p. 204. 

91. Enter Fool. " ' Now, our joy, though last, not least,' my dearest of 
all Fools, Lear's Fool ! Ah, what a noble heart, a gentle and a loving 
one, lies beneath that parti-coloured jerkin ! . . . Look at him ! _ It may 
be your eyes see him not as mine do, but he appears to me of a light del- 
icate frame, every feature expressive of sensibility even to pain, with eyes 
lustrously intelligent, a mouth blandly beautiful, and withal a hectic flush 
upon his cheek. Oh that I were a painter ! Oh that I could describe 
him as I knew him in my boyhood, when the Fool made me shed tears, 
while Lear did but terrify me ! . . . When the Fool enters, throwing his 
coxcomb at Kent, and instantly follows it up with allusions to the miser- 
able rashness of Lear, we ought to understand him from that moment to 
the last. Throughout this scene his wit, however varied, still aims at the 
same point, and in spite of threats, and regardless how his words may be 
construed by Goneril's creatures, with the eagerness of a filial love^ he 
prompts the old king to ' resume the shape which he had cast off.' « This 
is not altogether fool, my lord.' But, alas ! it is too late ; and when driv- 
en from the scene by Goneril, he turns upon her with an indignation that 
knows no fear of the 'halter' for himself: 'A fox when one has caught 



!86 NOTES. 

her, And such a daughter, Should sure to the slaughter, If my cap would 
buy a halter.' That such a character should be distorted by players, 
printers, and commentators ! Observe every word he speaks ; his mean- 
ing, one would imagine, could not be misinterpreted ; and when at length, 
finding his covert reproaches can avail nothing, he changes his discourse 
to simple mirth, in order to distract the sorrows of his master. When 
Lear is in the storm, who is with him? None — not even Kent — 'None 
but the Fool ; who labours to outjest His heart-struck injuries.' The 
tremendous agony of Lear's mind would be too painful, and even deficient 
in pathos, without this poor faithful servant at his side. It is he that 
touches our hearts with pity, while Lear fills the imagination to aching" 
(C. A. Brown). After quoting this and Charles Cowden Clarke's com- 
ments on the Fool, in which he takes the ground that he is " a youth, not 
a grown man," F. remarks : "After these long and good notes by my 
betters I wish merely to record humbly but firmly my conviction that the 
Fool, one of Shakespeare's most wonderful characters, is not a boy, but 
a man — one of the shrewdest, tenderest of men, whom long life had made 
shrewd, and whom afflictions had made tender ; his wisdom is too deep 
for any boy, and could be found only in a man, removed by not more than 
a score of years from the king's own age ; he had been Lear's companion 
from the days of Lear's early manhood." On the whole we are disposed 
to agree with this latter view of the Fool. Not only does much that he 
says show a shrewdness which can only be the result of long experience 
and observation of men and things, but his intense sympathy for Lear 
seems to us beyond the capacity of boyish years. On the other hand, 
Lear's addressing him as " boy " and " pretty knave," and the like, may 
be explained, partly by the force of habit — for he was a mere boy when 
he first became Lear's companion, and, it may be added, would from his 
very position naturally continue to be regarded and treated as a boy — 
and partly from his slight and fragile physique, which would make him 
appear more like an overgrown boy than a man.* 

Coxcomb. The fool's cap. F. quotes Minsheu (s. v. cockes-combe, ed. 
1617) : "Englishmen use to call vaine and proud braggers, and men of 
meane discretion and judgement Coxcombes. Because naturall Idiots and 

* Since the above was sent to the printer the Atlantic Monthly for July, 1880, has 
come to hand with Mr. Grant White's second paper on King Lear, in which he says 
of the Fool: "In this tragedy the Fool rises to heroic proportions, as he must have 
risen to be in keeping with his surroundings. He has wisdom enough to stock a col- 
lege of philosophers,— wisdom which has come from long experience of the world with- 
out responsible relations to it. For plainly he and Lear have grown old together. The 
king is much the older ; but the Fool has the marks of time upon his face as well as 
upon his mind. They have been companions since he was a boy; and Lear still calls 
him boy and lad, as he did when he first learned to look kindly upon his young, loving, 
half-distraught companion. The relations between them have plainly a tenderness 
which, knowingly to both, is covered, but not hidden, by the grotesque surface of the 
Fool's official function. His whole soul is bound up in his love for Lear and for Corde- 
lia. He would not set his life ' at a pin's fee ' to serve his master ; and when his young 
mistress goes to France he pines away for the sight of her. When the king feels the 
consequences of his headstrong folly, the Fool continues the satirical comment which he 
begins when he offers Kent his coxcomb. So might Touchstone have done ; but in a 
vein more cynical, colder, and without that undertone rather of sweetness than of sad- 
ness which tells us that this jester has a broken heart." 



ACT I. SCENE IV. 



187 



Fooles haue, and still doe accustome themselues to weare in their Cappes, 
cock's feathers, or a hat with a necke and head of a cocke on the top and 
a bell thereon, &c, and thinke themselues finely fitted and proudly attired 
therewith, so we compare a presumptuous bragging fellow, and wanting 
all true Iudgement and discretion, to such an Idiote foole, and call him 
also Coxecombe." 




THE COXCOMB. 



93. You were best. It were best for you. See J. C. p. 166, or Gr. 230, 
352 (cf. 190). 

94. Why, fool? The reading of the quartos. The 1st and 2d folios 
give the speech to Lear, and read " Why my Boy ?" As W. remarks, the 
Fool's reply shows that the folio is wrong : " Lear had taken no one's 
part that 's out of favour, but Kent had." 

95. One's part that 's, etc. Abbott (Gr. 81) says that "we never use the 
possessive inflection of the unemphatic one as an antecedent," as here ; 
but the construction does not strike us as wholly unfamiliar now, at least 
colloquially. 

96. An. The early eds. have " and," as usual, and F. retains that form. 
See Gr. 101. 

Thou Ut catch cold. " That is, be turned out of doors and exposed to 
the inclemency of the weather" (Farmer). 

97. This fellow has banished, etc. " Lear has, by blessing them, made 
Goneril and Regan no longer his daughters, and also made Cordelia 
queen of France by cursing her" (M.). 

98. On 'j-. Of his. On was often used for of, especially in contractions 
like this. See Gr. 182. 

100. Nuncle. Probably a contraction of mine uncle, the customary ap- 
pellation of the licensed fool to his superiors (Nares). Cf. 1 Hen. IV. 
p. 146, note on Yedward. 

103. Living. Property. Cf. W. T. iv. 3. 104 : " where my land and 
living lies." See also Mark, xii. 44, Luke, viii. 43, etc. 

105. The whip. Whipping, as Douce has shown, was a common pun- 
ishment of fools. Cf. A. Y. L. i. 2. 91, where Celia says to Touchstone, 



X 88 NOTES. 

"you '11 be whipped for taxation [that is, satire] one of these days." See 
also 171 below. 

107. Lady the brack. The quartos have "Ladie (or "Lady") oth'e 
brach,"' the folios "the Lady Brach." The emendation is due to Stee- 
vens. Cf. 1 Hen. IV. iii. 1. 240 : " I had rather hear Lady, my brach, 
howl in Irish." A brach was a female hound. See 1 Hen. IV. p. 176. 
Cf. iii. 6. 67 below. 

108. A pestilent gall to vie! M. explains this as "a passionate remem- 
brance of Oswald's insolence." F. says : " This does not satisfy me, but 

1 can offer nothing better." Why may it not refer to the Fool, who has 
just nettled his master into a hint of the whip? Cf. "A bitter fool!" 
just below. 

114. Owest. Ownest. See on i. 1. 195 above. 

116. Trowest. Apparently here = knowest. The usual meaning of 
trow was think or believe ; but trow you was often = do you know ? Cf. 
A. Y. L. iii. 2. 189 : " Trow you who hath done this ?" T. of S. i. 2. 165 : 
"Trow you whither I am going?" etc. See also on 205 below. J. H. 
explains the line as = " Do not believe all thou learnest." 

117. Set. Stake, risk. Cf. Rich. III. v. 4. 9 : "I have set my life upon 
a cast." See also Rich. II. p. 202. Throwest seems to be = throwesty^r; 
but it may be ="hast won by thy last throw" (Schmidt). 

124. Nothing can be made of nothing. An allusion to the old maxim, 
ex nihilo nihil fit. Cf. i. I. 83 above. 

132-147. That lord . . . snatching. Omitted in the folios ; " perhaps 
for political reasons," says Johnson, "as they seemed to censure the mo- 
nopolies." 

138. Motley. The parti-colored dress of the professional fool. Cf. 
A. Y. L. ii. 7. 34, 58, T. N. i. 5. 63, etc. The word is = fool in Sonn. no. 

2 and A. Y. L. iii. 3. 79. 

143. Fool. The concrete for the abstract (Schmidt). Cf. A. W. ii. 4. 36 : 
"and much fool may you find in you ;" T N. i. 5. 115 : " He speaks noth- 
ing but madman ;" Hen. V. v. 2. 156 : " I speak to thee plain soldier," etc. 

145. A monopoly out. That is, legally taken out, issued for my benefit. 
Warb. considered this "a satire on the gross abuses of monopolies at 
that time, and the corruption and avarice of the courtiers, who commonly 
went shares with the patentee." Steevens quotes sundry hits at the 
same abuse from other writers of the time. 

Ladies. The 2d quarto has "lodes," and W. and some other editors 
read "loads." 

153. Thine ass. An allusion to ^isop. 

155. If I speak, etc. "It I speak on this occasion like myself— that is, 
like a fool, foolishly — let not me be whipped, but him who first finds it to 
be as I have said — that is, the king himself, who was likely to be soonest 
sensible of the truth and justness of the sarcasm, and who, he insinuates, 
deserved whipping for the silly part he had acted " (Eccles). 

157. Fools had ne^er less grace in a year. " There never was a time when 
fools were less in favour ; and the reason is that they were never so little 
wanted, for wise men now supply their place " (Johnson). For grace the 
quartos have "wit," which Wr. and M. prefer. 






ACT I. SCENE IV 



189 



158. Foppish. Foolish ; the only instance of the word in S. For the 
rhyme with apish, cf. that of Tom a"nd am in ii. 3. 20, 21 below ; also that 
of corn and harm in iii. 6. 41, 43. To these examples Ellis {Early 
Eng. Pronunciation, iii. 953 ) adds seven from other works of S. See 
R. of L. 554, M. N. D. ii. 1. 48, 54, 263, iii. 3. 348, v. 1. 303, and L. L. L. 
v. 2. 55. 

163. Mothers. The quartos have "mother." 

165. Then they, etc. Steevens compares Heywood's Rape of Lucrece, 

" When Tarquin first in court began, 
And was approved king, 
Some men for sodden joy gan weep, 
But I for sorrow sing." 

176. Thee. Cf. T. of A. iv. 3. 277 : " Ay, that I am not thee ;" 2 Hen. 
VI. iv. 1. 117 : "it is thee I fear," etc. Gr. 213. 

179. Enter Goneril. "The monster Goneril prepares what is neces- 
sary, while the character of Albany renders a still more maddening griev- 
ance possible — namely, Regan and Cornwall in perfect sympathy of mon- 
strosity. Not a sentiment, not an image, which can give pleasure on ifs 
own account is admitted. Whenever these creatures are introduced, 
and they are brought forward as little as possible, pure horror reigns 
throughout. In this scene, and in all the early speeches of Lear, the one 
general sentiment of filial ingratitude prevails as the main-spring of the 
feelings ; — in this early stage the outward object causing the pressure on 
the mind, which is not yet sufficiently familiarized with the anguish for 
the imagination to work upon it" (Coleridge). 

What makes that frontlet on ? What causes that frown like a frontlet 
on your brow ? Cf. 3 Hen. VI. iv. 4. 1 : " Madam, what makes you in this 
sudden change ?" A frontlet was a band of cloth worn at night on the 
forehead to keep it smooth (Malone). Steevens quotes The Four P's, 
1569 (the Pardoner has asked why women are so long dressing when 
they get up in the morning, and the Pedler replies, with a play on the 
word let= hindrance) : 

" Forsooth, women have many lettes, 
And they be masked in many nettes : 
As frontlettes, fyllettes, partlettes, and bracelettes ; 
And then theyr bonettes, and theyr poynettes. 
By these lettes and nettes, the lette is suche, 
That spede is small, when haste is muche;" 

and Zepheria, 1594 : 

" But now my sunne it fits thou take thy set, 

And vayle thy face with frownes as with a frontlet." 

Malone adds from Lyly's Ettphues : " she was solitaryly walking, with her 
frowning cloth, as sick lately of the solens " (that is, sullens) ; and Clarke 
cites Chapman, Hero and leander : 

" E'en like the forehead cloth that in the night, 
Or when they sorrow, ladies us'd to wear." 

182. A11 O. See M. N. D. p. 165 or Hen. V. p. 144. For " the allusion 
reversed," see W. T. i. 2. 6 (Malone). 

189. A shealed peascod. A shelled pea-pod; a mere husk. Shealed is 



I9 o NOTES. 

only the old spelling of shelled, which some eds. give instead. S. uses 
the verb nowhere else. For peascod, see A. Y. L. p. 159. 

F. remarks : " Warb. was the first to insert a stage-direction here, di- 
rectly referring this sentence to Lear, and he has been followed, I think, 
by all eds. except Delius. As though the point were not made thereby 
sufficiently clear, Warb. changed ' That 's ' to Thou art. I cannot help 
thinking that stage-directions like these are in general needless, not'to 
say obtrusive. If the action is so clear that the humblest intellect can 
perceive it, surely a stage-direction is superfluous ; for instance, when the 
Fool says to Kent, ' Here 's my coxcomb,' does any one require to be told 
that he here offers Kent his cap ? When Lear says ' There 's earnest of 
thy service,' may not an editor assume that a reader has some intelli- 
gence, and needs not to be told that Lear here 'gives Kent money?' In 
the present instance the application is sufficiently clear without any indi- 
cation with the finger." 

191. Other. For the plural, cf. M. A T . D. iv. 1. 71 : "That he awaking 
when the other do," etc. Gr. 12. Wr. refers to Josh. viii. 22 and Luke, 
xxiii. 32. 

193. Rank. Gross. See A. Y. L. p. 186, note on Ranker. 

194. I had thought . . . To have found. See Ham. p. 265 (note on 
233, 234) or Much Ado, p. 132 (note on Have made Hercules have turned). 
Gr. 360. 

197. Put it 07i. Promote or encourage it. See Ham. p. 257 or Macb. 
p. 245. 

198. Allowance. Permission, sanction. Cf. li. 2. 100 below. 

M. remarks : " The rest of the sentence labours under a plethora of 
relatives. The meaning, however, is simple : ' If you instigate your men 
to riot I will check it, even though it offends you ; as that offence, which 
would otherwise be a shame, would be proved by the necessity to be a 
discreet proceeding.' ' Yes,' replies the Fool, ' and so the young cuckoo, 
wanting the nest to itself, was under the regrettable necessity of biting off 
the head of its foster-mother the sparrow ; which, under the circum- 
stances, was not a shame, but an act of discretion.' " 

199. Scape. Not '"scape," as usually printed, being found in contem- 
poraneous prose. See J. C. p. 172, or Wb. s. v. 

200. The tender of a wholesome weal. The regard for a healthy com- 
monwealth. Cf. 1 Hen. IV. v. 4. 49 : 

"Thou hast redeem'd thy lost opinion, 

And show'd thou mak'st some tender of my life." 

For wholesome, cf. Ham. i. 5. 70, iii. 4. 65, Macb. iv. 3. 105, etc. ; and for 
weal, Macb. iii. 4. 76, v. 2. 27, Cor. ii. 3. 189, etc. 

203. Which else, etc. Which necessity would justify as discreet pro- 
ceeding, though otherwise (that is, but for the necessity) it would be 
shameful. 

205. Know. The quartos, followed by many modern eds., have "trow." 
See on 116 above. 

206. It head. For the possessive it, see W. T pp. 155, 176. For it \y 
had (=it has had), the reading of 1st folio, the quartos have "it had." 

For the natural history of the passage, see 1 Hen. IV. p. 195 fol. 



ACT I. SCENE IV I9I 

207. Darkling. In the dark. See M. N.D. p. 152. K. remarks that 
the passage is not incoherent, as some critics have supposed ; and that 
S. found the almost identical image applied to the story of Lear as told 
by Spenser, F. Q. ii. 10. 30 : 

" But true it is that, when the oyle is spent, 
The light goes out, and weeke [wick] is throwne away : 
So when he had resignd his regiment, 
His daughter gan despise his drouping day, 
And wearie wax of his continuall stay." 

209. Come, sir. Omitted in the folios. 

210. I ivould you would. See 1 Hen. IV. p. 193. 

211. Whereof . . . fraught. Elsewhere in S. fraught (see T. IV. p. 162 
or W.T. p. 202) is followed by with. 

212. Dispositions. Moods, humours (Schmidt) ; as in 283 below. Cf. 
A. Y. L. v. 1. 113 : "Now I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on 
disposition," etc. For transport the quartos have "transform." Cf.W. T. 

111. 2. 159 • " being transported by my jealousies 

To bloody thoughts and to revenge," etc. 

215. Whoop, Jug, I love thee. Probably a quotation from some old 
song, but having no special point here, unless perhaps to express ironi- 
cally the Fool's estimation of Goneril. For the desperate attempts of the 
commentators to find a subtler meaning in it, see F. Jug was the old 
nickname for Joan, also used as a term of endearment. Halliwell cites a 
letter of Edward Alleyn, the player, to his wife : "And, Jug, I pray you 
lett my orayng-tawny stokins of wolen be dyed a newe good blak against 
1 com horn, to wear in winter ;" and again : 

" If I be I, and thou be'st one, 
Tell me, sweet Jugge, how spell'st thou Jone?" 

218. His notion weakens. The quartos have "notion, weaknes" (or 
" weaknesse "). For notion — mind, cf. Cor. v. 6. 107 and Macb. iii. 1. 83; 
the only other instances of the word in S. Discernings and lethargied he 
uses nowhere else. 

219. Ha! waking, etc. The quartos read : "sleeping or waking; ha ! 
sure 't is not so." They also print the entire speech as prose. 

221. Lear's shadow. The quartos make this a question and part of 
Lear's speech. The folios omit the next two speeches. 

225. Which. Steevens takes this to be =whom, referring to Lear; but 
it may be " the commonest connective used improperly " (M.), as the il- 
literate sometimes use it now. 

227. This admiration. That is, the astonishment you affect. See Ham. 
p. 230. For savour the 3d quarto has "favour," which some editors 
adopt. It is true that we do not find the noun savour used elsewhere by 
S. in this metaphorical way ; but cf. the verb in I. L. L. iv. 2. 165, T. JV. 
v. 1. 322, W. T. ii. 3. 119, Hen. V. i. 2. 250, 295, etc. 

228. Other your new pranks. For the order, cf. 2 Hen. IV. iv. 4. 53 : 
" With Poins and other his continual followers ;" and see our ed. p. 190. 

230. You should. The reading of the 2d quarto ; the other early eds. 
omit you. Steevens thought that both words should be omitted. 



I92 NOTES. 

232. Debosh'd. The old spelling of debauched, and the only one found 
in the folio in the four instances in which the word occurs. See Temp. 
p. 131. 

234. Shows. Appears ; as in 258 below. See Macb. p. 153. 
Epicurism . . . lust . . . tavern . . . brothel. " An instance of what 

Corson calls a respective construction. The first word refers to the third, 
and the second to the fourth " (F.). 

235. Makes. For the singular verb with two singular subjects, see Gr. 336. 

236. Graced. Full of grace, dignified (Schmidt). Cf. Macb. iii. 4. 41 : 
" the grac'd person of our Banquo." The quartos read " great." 

Speak for — ca}\ for, demand. Cf. Cor. iii. 2. 41: "when extremities 
speak" (that is, call to action) ; Temp. ii. 1. 207 : "the occasion speaks 
thee " (calls upon thee), etc. 

239. A little. Pope changed this to " Of fifty," on the ground that Lear 
shortly afterwards specifies this as the number to be cut off, and yet Gon- 
eril had not stated it ; but, as F. suggests, this was probably a simple 
oversight on Shakespeare's part. 

Disquantity — diminish ; used by S. nowhere else. Wr. compares dis- 
property in Cor. ii. I, 264, and disnaticred in 274 below. So disvalue, in 
M.for M.v.i. 221. 

240. Depend. Be dependent, continue in service. 

241. To be, etc. For the construction, see Gr. 354. 
Besort. Become, befit. For the noun, see Oth. p. 166. 

242. Which. Who. See Gr. 258, 259. 

250. Marble-hearted. Cf. marble-breasted 'in T. N. v. I. 127. 

251. Thee. For the reflexive use of personal pronouns, see Gr. 223. 

252. Sea-monster. The commentators have wasted much ink on the 
question whether S. refers to the hippopotamus or to the whale. If any 
particular monster is meant (which we doubt), it may be that in M. of V. 
iii. 2. 57, as H. suggests. 

253. Detested. See on i. 2. 68 above. 

254. Choice and rarest. Perhaps, as Wr. thinks, for choicest and rarest. 
See Rich. III. p. 215, note on The plainest harmless. Gr. 398. 

257. Worships. Honour, dignity. Cf. W. T. i. 2. 314: "rear'd to 
worship " (that is, raised to honour), etc. For the plural, see Rich. II. 
p. 206, note on Sights. 

259. A11 engine. The rack. Steevens quotes B. and F., Night- Walker, 
iv. 5: "Their souls shot through with adders, torn on engines." Wr. 
notes that Chaucer has engined= racked, in C. T 16546. 

262. This gate. Pope inserted the stage-direction. 

263. Dear. Here apparently— precious. For peculiar uses of the 
word in S., see Temp. p. 124 (note on The dear'st 0' th? loss) or Rich. II. 

265. Of what hath mov'dyou. Omitted 111 the quartos. 

266. Hear, Nature, hear, etc. See F. for a long and interesting note on 
the rendering of this passage by Garrick, Kemble, and the elder Booth. 

271. Derogate. "Degraded" (Johnson); "depraved, corrupt" 
(Schmidt); " dishonoured, in opposition to the following honour her'''' 
(Delius). For the form, cf. felicitate, i. 1. 68 above. 



ACT I. SCENE IV. 



193 



272. Teem. Bear children. Cf. Rich. II. v. 2. 91 : " my teeming date," 
etc. For the transitive use, see Macb. p. 243. 

274. Thwart. Perverse; the only instance of the adjective in S. Ec- 
cles quotes Milton, P. L. viii. 132 : " Mov'd contrary with thwart obliqui- 
ties ;" and Id. x. 1075 : " the slant lightning, whose thwart flame, driven 
down," etc. 

Disnatur'd. Unnatural, wanting in natural affection. See on 239 
above. Steevens quotes Daniel, Hymerts Triumph, ii. 4 : " I am not so 
disnatured a man," etc. 

275. Brow of youth. Youthful brow. See Gr. 423. 

276. Cadent. Falling (Latin cadens). M. remarks : "The effect of 
an unusual word formed from the Latin or Greek is often very great in 
poetry. Thus, Milton speaks of the 'glassy, cool, translucent wave,' and 
Wordsworth of the river, ' diaphanous because it travels slowly,' both 
words being far more effective than the common word ' transparent.' " 

277. Her mother 's pains and benefits. Her maternal pains and good 
offices, her loving attention to the training of her child. 

279. How sharper, etc. Malone compares Ps. clx. 3. M. remarks : 
" We should have to go to the book of Deuteronomy to find a parallel 
for the concentrated force of this curse. Can it be Lear who so sternly 
and simply stabs to the very inward heart of woman's blessedness, leav- 
ing his wicked daughter blasted and scathed forever by his withering 
words ?" 

283. Disposition. See on 212 above. 

291. Untented. That cannot be probed, incurable. Cf. detested=de- 
testable, i. 2. 68 above. For tent — a. probe, cf. T. and C. ii. 2. 16 : 

" the tent that searches 
To the bottom of the worst." 

For the verb, see Ham. p. 215. 

292. Fond. Foolish. See on i. 2. 43 above. 

293. Beweep. For the use of the prefix be- in making intransitive verbs 
transitive, see Gr. 438. Cf. Sonn. 29. 2 : " I all alone beweep my outcast 
state," etc. For ye, see Gr. 236. 

295, 296. The folios omit is it come to this, and the quartos Let it be so. 
The latter also read "yet haue I left a daughter." 

297. Comfortable. In an active sense = ready to comfort. Cf. ii. 2. 158 
below. See also A. W. i. 1. 86 : " Be comfortable to my mother," etc. 
Gr. 3 . 

301. Thou shalt, I warrant thee. Omitted in the folios. 

306. You, sir, etc. Johnson inserts the stage-direction " To the Fool." 
See on 189 above. 

309-313. Ellis remarks that the last three rhymes are remarkable, es- 
pecially the last, including the word halter. Daughter and after are also 
rhymed in T. of S. i. 1. 245, 246 and W. T. iv. 1. 27, 28. In the former of 
these two, the rhyme, as here in Lear, may be meant to be ridiculous. 

314-325. This man . . . unfitness. Omitted in the quartos. 

316. At point. Ready, prepared for any emergency. Cf. iii. I. 33 be- 
low ; and see Macb. p. 241. 

317. Buzz. Whisper. Cf. Hen. VIII. ii. I. 148 : 

N 



194 



NOTES. 



See also Ham. p. 

318. Enguard. 

319. In mercy. 



" did you not of late days hear 
A buzzing of a separation 
Between the king and Katherine?" 

248, note on Buzzers. 
Surround as with a guard (Schmidt). See Gr. 440. 
At his mercy. Cf. M. of V. iv. 1. 355 : 

" And the offender's life lies in the mercy 
Of the duke only ;" 



and L. L. L. v. 2. 856 : "That lie within the mercy of your wit." "In 
misericordia is the legal phrase " (Malone). 

321. Still. Ever. See on i. 1. 224 above. 

322. Taken. " Taken with harm, that is, overtaken " (Capell). Sr. 
follows Pope in reading "harm'd." 

329. Full. Used adverbially; as often. Cf. W. T. i. 2. 129 : "To be 
full like me," etc. 

Particular. Either referring to " the business threatened by Lear," as 
Capell explains it, or = "personal, individual" (Schmidt). Cf. v. 1. 30 
below, and the noun in ii. 4. 287. 

331. Compact. " Unite one circumstance with another so as to make a 
consistent account" (Johnson). More may be metrically a dissyllable 
(Gr. 480), or a word may have dropped out of the line (D.). 

333. This milky gentleness and course. This milky gentleness of your 
course (Schmidt). " Albany, like Macbeth, had too much of the milk of 
human kindness in him " (Wr.). See on i. 2. 40 above. 

334. Co?idemn not. Some editors read " condemn it not," for the sake 
of the metre. Cf. Gr. 483. 

335. At task. " Liable to reprehension and correction " (Johnson). Cf. 
"to take one to task." The 1st quarto has "attaskt for" (the 2d 
" alapt "), and most modern eds. read " attask'd for." But, as F. remarks, 
" Dr. Johnson's explanation, if any be needed, is ample." 

338. Striving to better, etc. Malone quotes So/in. 103. 9 : 

" Were it not sinful then, striving to mend, 
To mar the subject that before was well?" 

340. The event. That is, the event will show ; nous verrons. 

Scene V. — I. Gloster. The editors generally follow Capell in refer- 
ring this to the city of Gloucester, which, as Tyrwhitt remarks, " S. chose 
to make the residence of the Duke of Cornwall and Regan, in order to 
give a probability to their setting out late from thence on a visit to the 
Earl of Gloster, whose castle our poet conceived to be in the neighbor- 
hood of that city." 

4. Afore. The quartos have "before." See R. and J. p. 176. 

7. Brains. Changed by Pope to "brain," on account of the singular 
pronoun that follows. S. makes brains plural, except in A. W. iii. 2. 16 : 
"The brains of my Cupid 's knocked out," where the intervening singu- 
lar may perhaps account for the irregularity. Cf. Gr. 412. As brain 
and brains were used indiscriminately (except, as Schmidt notes, in such 
phrases as " to heat out the brains "), it is not strange that the pronoun 



ACT II. SCENE I. 195 

referring to the words should be used somewhat loosely, at least in vul- 
gar parlance. 

8. Kibes. Chilblains. See Ham. p. 262. 

10. Thy wit shall ne'er go slipshod. " For you show you have no wit 
in undertaking your present journey " (Sr.). 

13. Shalt see. For the ellipsis of the subject, see Gr. 241, 399, 402. 
Kindly here = " both affectionately and like the rest of her kind " (Mason). 

14. Crab. That is, a crab apple. See M. N. D. p. 140. 

18. On \s\ See on i. 4. 98 above. Just below, in 20, we have of =011. 
See Gr. 175. 

22. / did her wrong. Weiss remarks : " The beautiful soul of Corde- 
lia, that is little talked of by herself, and is but stingily set forth by cir- 
cumstance, engrosses our feeling in scenes from whose threshold her filial 
piety is banished. We know what Lear is so pathetically remembering; 
the sisters tell us in their cruellest moments ; it mingles with the midnight 
storm a sigh of the daughterhood that was repulsed. In the pining of 
the Fool we detect it. Through every wail or gust of this awful sympho- 
ny of madness, ingratitude, and irony, we feel a woman's breath." 

30. Be. Often used in questions, perhaps on account of the doubt im- 
plied. See Gr. 299. 

32. The seven stars. The Pleiades. See I Hen. IV. p. 142. F. thinks 
that the reference may be to the seven stars of the Great Bear ; but that 
group was commonly known as " Charles' wain." Cf. I Hen. IV. ii. 1. 2: 
" Charles' wain is over the new chimney." The Pleiades have been fa- 
miliar as household words from the earliest times, and "the seven stars" 
has always been the popular English name for them. For moe = mo\e, 
see A. Y.L.T&. 176. 

36. To take V again, etc. We are inclined to agree with Johnson that 
Lear is here "meditating on his resumption of royalty" (Johnson), 
rather than on "his daughter's having in so violent a manner deprived 
him of those privileges which before she had agreed to grant him" 
(Steevens). 

42. O, let me not be mad, etc. Dr. Bucknill remarks : " This self-con- 
sciousness of gathering madness is common in various forms of the dis- 
ease. ... A most remarkable instance of this was presented in the case 
of a patient, whose passionate, but generous, temper became morbidly 
exaggerated after a blow upon the head. His constantly expressed fear 
was that of impending madness ; and when the calamity he so much 
dreaded had actually arrived, and he raved incessantly and incoherently, 
one frequently heard the very words of Lear proceeding from his lips: 
' Oh, let me not be mad !' " 



ACT II. 

Scene I.— i. Save thee. That is, God save thee. Cf. T. G. of V. i. I. 
70, T. N. iii. 1. 1, 76, etc. For the full form, see Mitch Ado, iii. 2. 82, v. I. 
327, A. Y. L. v. 2. 20, etc. 



I9 6 NOTES. 

8. Ear-kissing. " The speaker's lips touching the hearer's ear" (Wr.). 
The quartos have " eare-bussing," in which there may be a play on buzz- 
ing (see on i. 4. 317 above). 

10-12. Have yon . . . a word. Omitted in the 2d quarto. 

Toward- in preparation, near at hand; as in iii. 3. 17 and iv. 6. 189 
below. See M. N. D. p. 156, note on A play tozvard. 

17. Queasy. "Delicate, requiring to be handled nicely" (Steevens); 
" ticklish " (K.). See Much Ado, p. 134. 

18. Which I, etc. The quartos read : " Which must aske breefnes 
("breefenesse" in 2d quarto) and fortune helpe." 

24. /' the haste. For the article in adverbial phrases, see Gr. 91. 

26. Upon his party. On his side. See Rich. II. p. 195 or K. John, p. 
133. In order to confuse his brother and urge him to flight, Edmund 
asks him first whether he has not spoken against Cornwall, and then, 
reversing the question, whether he has not said something on the side of 
Cornwall against Albany (Delius). 

27. Advise yourself. Consider, recollect yourself (Steevens). Cf. T. N. 
iv. 2. 102 : " Advise you what you say ;" Heit. V. iii. 6. 168 : " Go, bid 
thy master well advise himself," etc. Wr. quotes 1 Chron. xxi. 12. 

30. Quit you. Acquit yourself. Cf. I Cor. xvi. 13. 

31. Yield! come before my father ! This is spoken loud so as to be 
heard outside (Delius). 

34. / have seen drunkards, etc. Steevens quotes Marston, Dutch 
Courtezan, iv. I : " Nay, looke you ; for my owne part, if I have not as 
religiously vowd my hart to you, — been drunk to your healthe, swalowd 
flap-dragons, eate glasses, drunke urine, stabd arms, and don all the of- 
fices of protested gallantrie for your sake." Halliwell adds from Cooke, 
Greene's Tu Quoque : "I will fight with him that dares say you are not 
fair : stab him that will not pledge your health, and with a dagger pierce 
a vein, to drink a full health to you." 

39. Mumbling. Either the participle with of added (cf. Ham. ii. I. 92) 
or the verbal with a omitted ; more likely the former. See Gr. 178. 

Conjuring. For the accent of the word in S;, see Macb. p. 230. 

40. Stand. The 1st quarto has "stand's," the 2d quarto and 3d and 
4th folios " stand his." 

42. This way. "A wrong way should be pointed to" (Capell). The 
punctuation is that of the early eds. Most of the modern ones put a 
period after sir. 

45. Bui that. Following the when in 42. Cf. Ham. iv. 7. 160 : 

" When in your motion you are hot and dry — 
As make your bouts more violent to that end — 
And that he calls for drink," etc. 
See Gr. 285. 

46. The thunder. The folio reading, followed by K., W., and F. The 
quartos have "their thunders." 

49. loathly. Loathingly ; the only instance of the adverb in S. For 
the adjective, see 2 Hen. IV. p. 191. 

50. Motion. A fencing term, meaning an attack as opposed to guard 
or parrying. Cf. Ham. iv. 7. 102 : 



ACT II. SCENE I. 197 

"the scrimers of their nation, 
He swore, had neither motion, guard, nor eye, 
If you oppos'd them." 

See also the passage quoted on 45 above. F. quotes Vincentio Saviolo 
(see A. Y. L. p. 198, note on By the book) : "hold your dagger firm, mark- 
ing (as it were) with one eye the motion of your adversarie," etc. 

51. Charges home, etc. Cf. Oth. v. 1. 2 : " Wear thy good- rapier bare, 
and put it home," etc. 

52. Lanced. The quartos have "lancht" or "launcht," and the folios 
" latch'd." Some editors read " launch'd," but lance and launch seem to 
have been often used interchangeably. Wr. quotes Hollyband, Fr. Diet. 
1593 : " Poindre, to prick, to stick, to lanch." 

53. But when. The quarto reading; the folios have "And when." 
F. adopts Staunton's conjecture of " whe'r " ( = whether) for when, which 
is very plausible ; but there may be a change of construction (cf. Gr. 415) 
in Or whether, or an ellipsis : Or whether (it was that he was) gasted, etc. 
The Coll. MS. has "But whether." 

Best alaruni'd is apparently — thoroughly awakened. Delius makes 
my best alaruni'd spirits — " my best spirits alarum'd." For the verb, see 
Macb. p. 187. . 

55. Gasted. Frightened. Nares cites an instance oigast as a participle 
from Mirrourfor Magistrates: "Thou never wast in all thy life so gast." 
Gaster. was another form of the word. Cf. B. and F, Wit at Several 
Weapons, ii. 3 : " Either the sight of the lady has gaster'd him, or else 
he 's drunk ;" Harsnet, Decl. of Popish Impost: "And with these they 
adrad and gaster sencelesse old women ;" and Gifford, Dial, on Witches, 
1603 : " If they run at him with a spit red hote, they gaster him so sore," 
etc. Gastness (^ghastliness) occurs in Oth. v. 1. 106; and gastfull in 
Cotgrave, s. v. " Espoventable," and in Spenser, Shep. Kal. Aug. 170. 

Cf. aghast. 

58. Dispatch. That is, dispatch him ; or = Dispatch is the word. Cf. 
death in 63 just below. 

59. Arch. Chief, master. Steevens quotes Heywood, If you Know, 
etc. : " Poole, that arch, for truth and honesty." W. remarks that to Odd 
Fellows and Masons explanation is superfluous. 

65. Fight. Fixed, settled. Cf. T. and C. v. 10. 24 : 

"You vile abominable tents, 
Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains." 

Straight pight ( = erect) occurs in Cymb.v. 5. 164. Wr., M„ and others 
say that pight is the participle of pitch. It is clearly a participle, but 
probably from the verb pight (related to pitch), of which Nares cites an 
example from Warner, Albiotis Fug. : " his tent did Asser pight.'; The 
same form was used for the past tense ; as in a poem of the time of 
Elizabeth (we quote it from memory) : 

"He who earth's foundations pight, 
Pight at first, and still sustains." 

Cf. also Spenser, F. Q. i. 2. 42 : 

"Then brought she me into this desert waste, 
And by my wretched lovers side me pight." 



I9 8 NOTES. 

Curst=harsh, sharp (as in T.N. hi. 2. 46) ; often = shrewish. See 
31. N.I), p. 167. 

67. Uupossessing. Incapable of inheriting ; a bastard being, as Black- 
stone says, "nullius filius," and therefore of kin to nobody (M.). 

68. If I would. If I were disposed to, if I should. See Gr. 331. 
Would the reposal. The folio reading ; the quartos have " could the 

reposure." Reposal is analogous to disposal, as reposure is to exposure. 

"The words virtue, or worth are in loose construction with the rest of 
the sentence ; ' the reposure of any trust, (or the belief in any) virtue or 
worth, in thee'" (Wr.). 

70. FaitJi'd. Believed, credited. See on i. 1. 197 above. 

72. Character. Handwriting. See on i. 2. 54 above. 

73. Suggestion. Prompting to evil. See Temp. p. 127. For practice 
(the quartos read "pretence"), see on i. 2. 161 above. 

74. Dullard. Cf. Cymb. v. 5. 265 : " What, mak'st thou me a dullard 
in this act ?" S. uses the word only twice. 

75. Not. For the transposition, see 2 Hen. IV. p. 182, or Gr. 305. Cf. 
iv. 2. 2 below. 

76. Pregnant. Ready. Wr. says that it is used in this sense "without 
any reference to its literal meaning ;" and F. appears to think that this is 
not a natural figurative use of the word. He considers that Nares came 
nearer the truth in saying that the ruling sense of the word is that of 
"being full or productive of something." We think that "ready," or 
about to appear (in action, as truth, etc., according to the connection) like- 
wise expresses the metaphorical sense of the word ; and this will explain 
some instances of it in S. which, as F. admits, do not come clearly under 
Nares's definition. See, for example, W. T v. 2. 34, and the note in our 
ed. p. 210. Certain other instances, we admit, are better explained by the 
other interpretation ; while some, like the present, may, in our opinion, 
be explained equally well by either. 

For spurs (the quarto reading) the folios have "spirits." 

77. Strong. The quarto reading; and better, on the whole, than the 
" strange " of the folios. For the bad sense of the word, Wr. compares 
Rich. II. v. 3. 59 : " O heinous, strong, and bold conspiracy ;" and T. of A. 
iv. 3. 45 : "strong thief." Here the word seems in perfect keeping with 
the fastened ( = confirmed, hardened) which follows. 

78. I never got him. He is no son of mine. These words are not in 
the folios, but they fill out the imperfect line and have generally been 
adopted by the editors. 

79. Hark I etc. A tucket (see stage-direction) was a set of notes on 
the trumpet, used as a signal for a march (Nares). The word is found 
in the text of Hen. V. iv. 2. 35. 

80. Ports. Portals, gates ; as in T. and C. iv. 4. 113, 138, Cor. i. 7. 1, 
v. 6. 6, etc. 

81. His picture, etc. Lord Campbell remarks: " One would suppose 
that photography, by which this mode of catching criminals is now prac- 
tised, had been invented in the time of Lear." F. adds that photography 
has merely been called to our aid in continuing a practice common in the 
time of S. ; and he cites the old play of Nobody and Somebody, 1606 : 



ACT II. SCENE I. 199 

"Let him be straight imprinted to the life: 
His picture shall be set on euery stall, 
And proclamation made, that he that takes him, 
Shall haue a hundred pounds of Somebody P 

84. Natural. " Here used with great art, in the double sense of illegit- 
imate and as opposed to unnatural, which latter epithet is implied upon 
Edgar" (H.)'. 

85. Capable. Lord Campbell says : " In forensic discussions respect- 
ing legitimacy, the question is put, whether the individual whose status 
is to be determined is ' capable,' i. e. capable of inheriting ; but it is only 
a lawyer who would express the idea of legitimizing a natural son by 
simply saying, ' I '11 work the means To make him capable.' " 

89. How dost, my lord? The later folios read " How does my lord?" 
which F. thinks may be right (though he does not adopt it), as Regan at 
no other time addresses Gloster in the second person. For the omission 
of the subject, see Gr. 241, 399, 402. 

92. To fill out the measure, the Coll. MS. inserts "your heir?" be- 
fore your Edgar ? M. remarks : " Probably the intense tone of astonish- 
ment would give a prolonging accentuation to several of the syllables 
as the line stands, and make it in reality long enough without the addi- 
tion." 

97. Of that consort. Omitted in the quartos. Consort = company, fel- 
lowship ; as in T. G. of V. iv. 1. 64: " Wilt thou be of our consort?" 
The word in this sense has the accent on the last syllable; but when it 
means a company of musicians (as in T. G. of V. hi. 2. 84 and 2 Hen. VI. 
iii. 2. 327), on the first (Schmidt). 

99. Put him on. Prompted him to. See on i. 4. 197 above. 

100. T/i' expense and waste. The 1st quarto has "the wast and spoyle ;" 
the 2d has " these — and waste of this his." It is probable, as F. suggests, 
that the dash indicates the haste and carelessness with which the quarto 
was printed (see p. 10 above). It was inserted either by the stenographer 
because he misheard the word and afterwards failed to supply it, or by 
the compositor because he could not make out the copy. Expense^ 
spending; as in M. W. ii. 2. 147: "after the expense of so much money;" 
Sonn. 94. 6 : " And husband nature's riches from expense," etc. For the 
accent of revenue, see on i. 1. 130 above. 

107. Bewray. Used interchangeably with betray, but without any no- 
tion of treachery (Wr.). Cf. iii. 6. 109 below ; and see also R. of L. 1698, 
Cor. v. 3. 95, etc. The quartos have "betray" here. F 'or practice, cf. 73 
above. 

ill. Of doing. With regard to doing. Gr. 174. 

112. In my strength. With my authority. 

113. Doth. For the singular verb after two nominatives, see Gr. 336. 
115. Trust. Trustworthiness ; as in Oth. i. 3. 285 : "A man he is of 

honesty and trust," etc. 

119. Threading, etc. Cf. Cor. iii. 1. 127 : "They would not thread the 
gates ;" and see K. yohn, p. 176, note on Unthread the rude eye. 

120. Poise. Weight, moment. See Oth. p. 183. The 1st quarto has 
" poyse," the 2d quarto and the folios " prize." 



200 



NOTES. 



123. Best. The 1st quarto has "lest," and the Camb. ed. and Wr. read 
"least." 

124. From our home. That is, away from our home. Cf. Macb. iii. 4. 

"To feed were best at home; 
From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony;" 

and see our ed. p. 215. Gr. 158. 

125. Attend dispatch. Wait to be dispatched. 

127. Businesses. The folio reading; the quartos have "businesse." 
If the singular is adopted (as it is in many eds.) it must be a trisyllable. 
Gr. 479. The plural is found in A. W.'\. 1. 220, iii. 7. 5, iv. 3. 98, W. T. iv. 
2. 15, and K. John, iv. 3. 158. 

128. Craves. Demands. For the singular, see Gr. 247. 

Scene IT. — 1. Dawning. The quartos have "euen," and Pope and 
Theo. "evening." From 26 and 157 the time appears to be before day- 
break, with the moon still shining. 

5. If thou IcnPst me. " A conventional phrase before a question or re- 
quest, which Kent here takes literally " (Delius). 

8. Lip sbury pinfold. No such place as Lipsbury is known. Jennens 
conjectures " Ledbury," and the Coll. MS. gives " Finsbury." Of the 
various attempts to explain the phrase, Nares's is perhaps the most satis- 
factory ; namely, that it may be a coined term, referring to " the teeth, as 
being the pinfold within the lips.'''' Wr. remarks that " similar names of 
places which may or may not have any local existence occur in proverbial 
phrases, such for instance as ' Needham's Shore,' ' Weeping Cross.' " 
For pinfold ( = a pound), cf. T. G. of V. i. 1. 114 : " You mistake ; I mean 
the pound, — a pinfold ;" Milton, Comus, 7 : " Confm'd and pester'd in 
this pinfold here," etc. 

14. Three-suited. Having but three suits of clothes ; contemptuous, 
and in keeping with beggarly. Delius thinks it is rather in keeping with 
glass-gazing, and=foppish ; in support of which view he quotes iii. 4. 126 
below: "who hath had three suits to his back." On the other hand, 
however, Steevens cites B. J., Silent Woman, iv. 2 : " wert a pitiful poor 
fellow . . . and hadst nothing but three suits of apparel." Wr. remarks : 
" If the terms of agreement between master and servant in Shakespeare's 
time were known, they would probably throw light upon the phrase. It 
is probable that three suits of clothes a year were part of a servant's 
allowance. In the Silent Woman, iii. 1, Mrs. Otter, scolding her husband 
whom she treats as a dependant, says, ' Who gives you your maintenance, 

1 pray you ? Who allows you your horse-meat and man's-meat, your 
three suits of apparel a year ? your four pair of stockings, one silk, three 
worsted ?' " 

Hundred-pound was also a term of reproach. Steevens quotes Mid- 
dleton, Phcenix, iv. 3 : " Am I used like a hundred - pound gentle- 
man." 

15. Worsted-stocking. In England in the time of Elizabeth silk stock- 
ings were worn by all who could afford them, and worsted or woollen ones 
were thought cheap and mean. Steevens quotes Tailor, The Hog hath 



ACT II. SCENE II. 20 1 

Lost his Pearl, i. 1 : " Good parts, without habiliments of gallantry, are 
no more set by in these times than a good leg in a woollen stocking ;" 
and B. and F., The Captain, iii. 3 : "serving-men . . . with woollen stock- 
ings." Malone adds from Middleton, Phoenix, iv. 2 : " Metreza Auriola 
keeps her love with half the cost that I am at ; her friend can go afoot, 
like a good husband, walk in worsted stockings, and inquire for the six- 
penny ordinary." 

Lily-livered. White-livered, cowardly. Cf. Macb. v. 3. 15 : " Thou lily- 
liver'd boy ;" and see our ed. p. 249. See also 2 Hen. IV. p. 188, note on 
The liver white, etc. 

Action-taking. Resenting an injury by a lawsuit, instead of fighting it 
out like a man of honour (Mason and Schmidt). 

16. Sttperserviceable. " Over-officious" (Johnson) ; "above his work" 
(Wr.). Cf. iv. 6. 231 below. For superserviceable, finical, the quartos have 
"superfinicall." 

17. One-trunk-inheriting'. " With all his worldly belongings in a single 
trunk" (Wr.). Inheriting— possessing; as often. See R. and J. p. 146. 
Johnson and Steevens understood the word here in the ordinary sense, 
and the former took.tru?ik to be— trunk-hose. 

21. Addition. Title. See on i. 1. 129 above. 

23. Pail on. S. uses rail on or tipon oftener than rail at. See A. Y. L. 
p. 162. 

28. Sop 0'' tli 1 moonshine. Probably an allusion to the old dish called 
"eggs in moonshine," for which Nares gives the receipt from a cook-book 
of the time. Clarke remarks that the threat is equivalent to " I '11 beat 
you flat as a pancake." 

Cnllionly. Cullion-like, base. Cf. Hen. V. iii. 2. 22 : "Up to the preach, 
you dogs ! avaunt, you cullions !" (Fluellen's speech). See also 2 Hen. 
VI. i. 3. 43. 

29. Barber-monger. One who deals much with barbers (Mason and 
Schmidt) ; hence a fop. 

32. Vanity the puppet's part. " Alluding to the old moralities or alle- 
gorical plays, in which Vanity, Iniquity, and other vices were personified" 
(Johnson). Cf. Rich. III. p. 208, note on The formal Vice, Iniquity ; and 
observe the quotation from The Devil is an Ass. Sr. takes puppet to be 
" a mere term of contempt for a female." 

33. Ca?-bonado. Literally, to cut a piece of meat crosswise for broiling. 
Cf. W. T. iv. 4. 268 : " to eat adders' heads and toads carbonadoed ;" and 
see our ed. p. 198. For the noun, see 1 Hen. IV. p. 201. 

34. Come your ways. Come on; used by S. oftener than come your 
zvay. See Ham. p. 191. 

36. Neat slave. " Mere slave, very slave" (Johnson) ; " finical rascal " 
(Steevens). St. sees a play on neat as applied to cattle (cf. W. T. i. 2.. 
123) ; but, as Wr. remarks, this would have no especial point as addressed 
to Oswald. F. is inclined to agree with Johnson, and to find a parallel 
instance in B. J., Poetaster, iv. 1 : " By thy leave, my neat scoundrel ;" 
which Steevens cites in support of his explanation. It is perhaps an 
objection to Johnson's that S. nowhere else has neat—pme, unmixed. 
On the other hand, he seems to use it contemptuously = spruce, finical, 



202 NOTES. 

in i /&/*. IV. i. 3. 33 : " Came there a certain lord, neat, and trimly 
dress'd," etc. 

39. Parting them. The folios add "Part." to Edmund's speech, but D. 
is probably right in regarding it as a stage-direction that has got into the 
text. 

40. Goodman boy. Cf. R. and J. i. 5. 79: "What, goodman boy!" 
Goodman was sometimes used contemptuously; as in M.forM. v. 1. 328 : 
"Come hither, goodman baldpate," etc. See also T.N. p. 129, note on 
Goodman devil. 

41. Flesh. " To feed with flesh for the first time, to initiate " (Schmidt). 
See K. John, p. 172 (note on Flesh his spirit) or 1 Hen. IV. p. 203. Cf. 
also fleshment in 117 below. 

45. Messengers. Oswald is the messenger from our sister, Kent the 
messenger from the king (D.). W. reads "messenger." 

49. Disclaims in. Disowns ; elsewhere in S. without in. Cf. i. 1. 106 
above. Steevens cites instances of disclaims in from B. J., Warner, and 
Brome, and Wr. from Bacon and B. and F. As F. notes, it seems to 
have been going out of use, for Jonson sometimes drops the in in his sec- 
ond edition. 

A tailor made thee. Cf. Cymb. iv. 2. 81 : 

" No, nor thy tailor, rascal, 
Who is thy grandfather ; he made those clothes, 
Which, as it seems, make thee." 

53. Two hours. The quarto reading, generally adopted ; the folios 
have " two yeares," which Schmidt prefers. C>' the (or " oth' ") is from 
the folios, the quartos having " at the." 

56. Ancient. Aged, old ; as in 120 below. See also W. T. p. 189. 

58. Thou whoreson zed I etc. B.J. in his Fug. Gram, says: "Z is a 
letter often heard among us, but seldom seen." Farmer quotes Muloas- 
ter : " Z is much harder among us, and seldom seen : — S is become its 
lieutenant-general. It is lightlie expressed in English, saving in foren 
enfranchisements." Baret, in his Alvearie, 1580, omits the letter. 

59. Unbolted. Coarse, unrefined. Toilet says : " Unbolted mortar is 
mortar made of unsifted lime, and to break the lumps it is necessary to 
tread it by men in wooden shoes." For bolted— refined, see Hen. V. ii. 2. 
137 : " Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem ;" and Cor. hi. 1. 322 ; 
" in bolted language." 

Steevens quotes Massinger, New Way to Pay Old Debts, i. 1 : 

" I will help 
Your memory, and tread thee into mortar ; 
Not leave one bone unbroken." 

60. Jakes. A privy. 

61. Wagtail. The bird so called. H. thinks it "comes pretty near 
meaning puppy.' 1 '' 

68. The holy cords. The quartos read " those cords." Warb. says^: 
" By those holy cords S. means the natural union between parents and 
children. The metaphor is taken from the cords of the sanctuary." 

A-twain. In twain. Cf. L.C.6: "Tearing of papers, breaking rings 
a-twain." Gr. 24. 



» 



ACT II. SCENE II. 



203 



69. Intrinse. "Intricate" (D.) ; "tightly drawn" (Wr.). The folios 
read " t'intrince," the quartos " to intrench." Upton was the first to 
recognize in the folio text a contracted form of intrinsic -ate ; which occurs 
in A. and C. v. 2. 307 : 

"With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate 
Of life at once untie." 

Malone notes that the word was a new one at this time, and quotes the 
preface to Marston's Scourge of Villanie, 1598: "new-minted epithets 
(as reall, intrinsecate, Delphicke)." 

Smoot/i— Hatter, humour ; as in Rich. II. i. 2. 169 : " Sweet smoothing 
word ;" and Id. i. 3. 48 : " smooth, deceive, and cog." See our ed. p. 185. 

70. Rebel. The plural may be explained by the proximity of lords 
(Gr. 412), or by the plural implied in every (Gr. 12). Pope and many of 
the recent editors read "rebel." 

71. Being oil to fire. The quartos read "Bring oil to stir," and most 
modern eds. adopt " Bring." 

72. Renege. Deny ; from the Late Latin renego (see Wb. s. v.), whence 
also we get renegade (through the Spanish). It occurs again in A. and C. 
i. 1. 8: "reneges all temper." The quartos spell the word " Reneag," 
which indicates the pronunciation. Nares quotes Du Bartas, The Battail 

•I ' ' " All Europe nigh (all sorts of rights reneg'd) 

Against the Truth and Thee, un-holy Leagu'd." 

Reny (in P. P. 250 : " Heart's renying ") has the same origin. Cf. Chau- 
cer, C. T. 4762 : " For we reneyed Mahoun oure creance ;" and Id. 4798 : 
" And seyde hym that she wolde reneye hir lay." The 1st folio mis- 
prints " Reuenge." 

Halcyon. Kingfisher. Steevens quotes Thomas Lupton's Notable 
Things, B. x. : "A lytle byrde called the Kings Fysher, being hanged vp 
in the ayre by the neck, his nebbe or byll wyll be alwayes dyrect or 
strayght against ye winde ;" and Marlowe, Jew of Malta, i. 1 : 

"But now how stands the wind? 
Into what corner peers my halcyon's bill?" 

According to Charlotte Smith's Nat. Hist, of Birds (quoted by D.), the 
belief in a connection between the halcyon and the wind still lingered 
among the common people of England in 1807. 

73. Vary. For nouns like this, see Gr. 451. 

75. Epileptic. " Distorted by grinning " (D.). Oswald is " pale with 
fright and pretending to laugh " (Wr.). 

76. Smile. The reading of the 4th folio ; " Smoile " or " smoyle " in 
all the other early eds. It smile is right, it comes under Gr. 200. Cf. i. 1. 
154 above. 

^4.y=as if; as in iii. 4. 15 and v. 3. 201 below. See Gr. 107. 

77. Sarum. The ancient name of Salisbury. 

78. Cackling. " Oswald's forced laughter suggests to Kent the cackling 
of a goose " (F.). 

Camelot, famed in the Arthurian legends, was Cadbury in Somerset- 
shire, according to Selden ; and near it, Hanmer says, "there are many 



20 4 NOTES. 

large moors, upon which great numbers of geese are bred." St. supposes 
that the reference was to the custom among Arthur's knights of sending 
their conquered foes to Camelot to do homage to the king. I), thinks 
that there may be a double allusion, to the geese of Somersetshire and to 
the vanquished knights. 

83. What is his fault? The quartos read " What 's his offence ?" 

84. Likes. Pleases. See on i. 1. 193 above. 
91. Constrains the garb, etc. " Forces his outside, or his appearance, to 

something totally different from his natural disposition " (Johnson). St. 
takes his to be=its ; in which case the meaning is, as Clarke expresses 
it, " distorts the style of straightforward speaking quite from its nature, 
which is sincerity ; whereas he makes it a cloak for craft." For the fig- 
urative use of garb, cf. Hen. V. v. 1. 80, Cor. iv. 7. 44, Ham. ii. 2. 390, and 
Oth. ii. 1. 315. 

94. So. That is, be it so ; a very common use of the word. See M. of 
V. p. 136. 

95. These kind of knaves. Cf. T. N. i. 5. 95 : " these set kind of fools," 
etc In Id. i. 2. 10 we find " and those poor number." See Gr. 412. 

96. More corrupter. See on i. 1. 71 above. 

97. Silly -ducking. The hyphen is in the folios. Ducking is contempt- 
uous for bowing ; as in Rich. III. i. 3. 49 and T. of A. iv. 3. 18. 

Observants = li obsequious attendants" (Schmidt). For observance and 

observancy — homage, see Oth. p. 194. So observe=pa.y homage; as in T. 

of A. iv. 3. 212 : utj. ., , 

J J "Hinge thy knee, 

And let his very breath, whom thou 'It observe, 

Blow off thy cap." 

98. Nicely. "With the utmost exactness" (Malone). Cf. v. 3. 145 
below. 

100. Aspect. An astrological term. See on i. 1. 104 and i. 2. 113 above. 
Cf. R. of L. 14, Sonn. 26. 10, 1 Hen. IV. i. 1. 97 (see our ed. p. 142), etc. 
The accent in S. is always on the last syllable. See Gr. 490. 

103. Discommend. Disapprove ; used by S. nowhere else. 

105. Accent. Speech, language; asiniJ/. N.D. v. 1.97, J. C.iii.l. 1 13, etc. 

106. Though I should win, etc. " Though I should win you, displeased 
as you now are, to like me so well as to entreat me to be a knave" 
(Johnson). 

112. Compact. The quartos have " coniunct " (conjunct). Either 
means " in concert with " (Schmidt). Cf. M. for M. v. 1. 242 : " Compact 
with her that 's gone," etc. Conjunct occurs in v.- 1. 12 below. 

113. Being down, insulted. For the omission of /with being, see Gr. 
378 ; and for that of he with insulted, Gr. 400. 

115. That zvorthied him. As exalted him into a hero (Schmidt). For 
such . . . that, see Gr. 279. F. reads "That' worthied," assuming that 
it is absorbed. 

116. For him attempting. For venturing to attack him. Cf. M. W. iv. 
2. 226: "he will never . . . attempt us again," etc. 

117. In the fleshment of. "In the first glory of" (Clarke) ; "being as 
it were fleshed with" (Wr.). See on ii. 2. 41 above. 

119. Is their fool. Is a fool to them (Capell). 



ACT II. SCENE II. 



?o5 



124. Respect. The folios have " respects." Do respect is like do homage, 
do reverence, etc. Cf. i. 4. 98 above, and see Gr. 303. 

126. Stocking. Putting in the stocks ; as in ii. 4. 183 below. Here the 
quartos have "stopping," and there "struck" for stocked. 

129. Till noon! etc. Clarke remarks: "Very artfully is this speech 
thrown in. Not only does it serve to paint the vindictive disposition of 
Regan, it also serves to regulate dramatic time by making the subsequent 
scene where Lear arrives before Gloucester's castle and finds his faithful 
messenger in the stocks appear sufficiently advanced in the morning to 
allow of that same scene closing with the actual approach of 'night,' 
without disturbing the sense of probability. S. makes a whole day pass 
before our eyes during a single scene and dialogue, yet all seems con- 
sistent and natural in the course of progression." 

131. Being. That is,you being. Cf. 113 above. 

132. Colour. The quartos have " nature." 

133. Bring away. Bring here, bring along; as in M.for M. ii. I. 41, 
T. of A. v. 1. 68, etc. So come away=.zoxx\<z here ; as in Temp. i. 2. 187, etc. 

In great houses movable stocks were kept for the correction of servants 
(Farmer). 

135-139. His fault . . . punish 'd with. Omitted in the folios. 

135. Much. Great. See Gr. 51. 

136. Check. Rebuke. See J. C. p. 172 or 2 Hen. IV. p. 156. For the 
noun, see Oth. p. 158. 

139. The king must. The folios read : " The King his Master, needs 
must." 

141. Answer. Cf. i. 1. 144 and i. 3. 11 above. 

142. More worse. See on 96 above. 

144. For following, etc. The line is not in the folios. 
148. Ricofd. Hindered ; a metaphor from the game of bowls. Cf. the 
noun in Rich. II. iii. 4. 4, and see our ed. p. 197. 

151. A good mail's fortune, etc. Even a good man may have bad luck. 
Possibly, as F. suggests, Kent may jocosely mean "that what is usually 
but a metaphor is with him a reality." 

152. Give you good morrow ! God give you good morning ! For the 
full form, see I. L. L. iv. 2. 84, and for the contraction God ye good morrow, 
R. and J. ii. 4. 116. The salutation was one " used only by common peo- 
ple " (Schmidt). Good morrow was considered proper only before noon. 
See R. and J. p. 143, note on Is the day so young? 

154. Approve the common saw, etc. Prove the truth of the old saying, 
" Out of God's blessing into the warm sun." Malone cites Howell, Eng- 
lish Proverbs, 1660: "He goes out of God's blessing to the warm sun, 
viz. from good to worse." The origin of the proverb is uncertain. The 
simplest explanation, perhaps, is that it was applied to those who were 
turned out of doors and exposed to the weather. 

157. litis tinder globe. Cf. T. of A. i. 1. 44: "this beneath world;" 
and Sonn. 7. 2 : 

" Lo in the orient when the gracious light 
Lifts up his burning head, each under eye 
Doth homage to his new-appearing sight." 



206 NOTES. 

158. Comfortable. Comforting. See on i. 4. 297 above. 

159. Nothing a/most, etc. The wretched are almost the only persons 
who can be said to see miracles. " That Cordelia should have thought 
of him, or that her letter should have reached him, seems to him such a 
miracle as only those in misery experience " (Delius). 

162. My obscured course. My disguise. 

And shall find ti??ie, etc. And who (that is, Cordelia) will find oppor- 
tunity in this abnormal state of affairs to set things right again. The 
style is disjointed, partly because he is soliloquizing, partly because he 
can hardly keep his eyes open for weariness. 

164. All weary, etc. Here he gives way to his drowsiness, bids his eyes 
take advantage of their heaviness not to see how poor a resting-place he 
has, and, with a good-night prayer for better fortune, falls asleep. 
. Enormous (which has the same etymology as abnormal, except that 
norma is compounded with e instead of ab) is rightly explained by 
Johnson as = " unwonted, out of rule, out of the ordinary course of 
things." 

Jennens was the first to suggest that Kent reads fragments of Corde- 
lia's letter {and shall find time . . . their remedies), and he has been fol- 
lowed by Steevens, Coll., W., and others; but, as M alone notes, Kent 
cannot read the letter, but wishes for the rising of the sun that he may 
read it. Mason and H. connect and shall find with I know ; and Mr. J. 
Crosby (as quoted by H.) paraphrases that part of the passage thus: 
" From this anomalous state of mine, I shall gain time to communicate 
and co-operate with Cordelia in her endeavour to restore the kingdom to 
its former condition ; to give losses their remedies, that is, to reinstate Lear 
on the throne, Cordelia in his favour, and myself in his confidence, and 
in my own rights and titles." 

For other interpretations of portions of the passage, as well as for the 
emendations that have been proposed (none of which seem to us worthy 
of notice here), see F. 

For 'er-watched (=worn out with watching), cf. y. C. iv. 3. 241: " Poor 
knave, I blame thee not ; thou art o'er-watch'd." 

Scene III. — 2. Happy. Lucky, fortunate ; as in iv. 6. 206 below. See 
Macb. p. 162. 

3. Port. Harbour, refuge. 

4. That. "Loosely used for where' 1 '' (Wr.). Schmidt takes it to be 
~but that, or simply that. 

5. Attend my taking. Watch to capture me. For does, see on ii. 1. 
113 above. 

Whiles. Used interchangeably with while. Gr. 137. 

6. Am bethought. Think, intend ; the only instance of the form in S. 
He generally uses the reflexive form ; as in y. C. iv. 3. 251 : " It may be I 
shall otherwise bethink me ;" T. N. iii. 4. 327 : " he hath better bethought 
him of his quarrel ;" M.for M. v. 1. 461 : " I have bethought me of an- 
other fault," etc. 

7. Most poorest. See on i. 1. 71 above. 

8. In contempt of man. " Wishing to degrade a man" (M.). 



ACT II. SCENE IV. 



207 



10. Elf all my hair. Tangle my hair as elves were supposed to do 
that of sluttish persons. See R. and J. p. 157, note on Elf-locks. 

14. Bedlam beggars. Steevens quotes from Dekker's Belman of Lon- 
don, of which three editions appeared in 1608, the same year in which 
Lear was first printed, the following description of "an Abraham man:" 
" He sweares he hath been in Bedlam, and will talke frantickely of pur- 
pose : you see pinnes stuck in sundry places of his naked flesh, especially 
in his armes, which paine he gladly puts himselfe to, only to make you 
believe he is out of his wits. He calls himselfe by the name of Bo ore 
Tom, and comming near any body cries out, Boore Tom is a-cold. Of 
these Abraham-men, some be exceeding merry, and doe nothing but sing 
songs fashioned out of their own braines : some will dance, others will 
doe nothing but either laugh or weepe : others are dogged, and so sullen 
both in loke and speech, that spying but a small company in a house, 
they boldly and bluntly enter, compelling the servants through feare to 
give them what they demand." 

15. Strike. The reading of all the early eds., followed by the modern 
editors with the exception of F., who adopts Walker's conjecture of 
" Stick." 

Mortified— deadened, hardened. See the quotation from Dekker just 
above. 

16. Wooden pricks. Skewers. "The Euonymus, of which the best 
skewers are made, is called prick-wood' 1 '' (Mason). 

18. Belting. Paltry, petty. Cf. M. N. D. ii. 1. 91 : " every pelting riv- 
er ;" and see our ed. p. 142. 

19. Sometime. The folios have " Sometimes," but the 1st folio has 
sometime in the latter part of the line. Both forms are common in S. 

Bans. Curses; as in T. of A. iv. 1. 34: "with multiplying bans." 
Elsewhere in S. the plural refers to the marriage bans ; as in v. 3. 88 
below. 

20. Turlygod. Warb. conjectured " Turlupin," the name applied to a 
fraternity of gypsies or beggars in the 14th century. Douce says that 
this name was corrupted into " Turlygood," the form adopted by Theo. 
and many other editors. Nares doubts whether Turlygood has any real 
connection with Turlupin, though, like that, it evidently means a kind of 
beggar. 

21. Edgar I nothing am. " As Edgar I cease to be " (Wr.). For the 
adverbial use of nothing, see Gr. 55. 

Scene IV. — 1. Home. The quartos read "hence." 

7. Cruel. A play upon crewel, or worsted, of which garters were often 
made. See 1 Hen. IV. p. 164, note on Caddis. Halliwell says: "This 
word was obvious to the punster, and is unmercifully used by the older 
dramatists. A pun similar to that in the text is in one of L'Estrange's 
anecdotes: 'A greate zelote for the Cause would not allow the Parlia- 
ment's army to be beaten in a certaine fight, but confest he did beleeve 
they might be worsted. To which linsy-wolsey expression, a merry cav- 
aleere reply'd, Take heede of that, for worsted is a cruell peece of stuffe.' " 

8. Heads. The quartos have "heeles." 



2 o8 NOTES. 

9. At legs. F. prints " at' legs.'] Cf. Gr. 90. 

10. Nether-stocks. Short stockings. Cf. 1 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 131: "I '11 
sew nether-stocks." For stocks^ stockings, see T. Np. 126. 

12. To set thee. As to set thee. See on i. 4. 37 above. 
18, 19. ./Vb, no . . . they have. Omitted in the folios. 

23. Upon respect. Upon consideration, deliberately (Sr.). Cf.N. John, 
p. 167, note on More upon humour, etc. 

24. Resolve me. Inform me,. explain to me. See Rich. III. p. 224, or 
y. C. p. 158 (note on Be resolv'd). 

Modest— reasonable, becoming, "as much as may consist with telling 
the full truth " (Schmidt). Cf. iv. 7. 5 below, where modest is exactly ex- 
plained by "Nor more nor clipp'd, but so," that is, not too much nor too 
little, but just the measure (Latin modus). 

25. Usage. Treatment ; the only sense in which S. uses the word 
(Schmidt). The usage of the 1st quarto in Oth. iv. 3. 105, adopted by 
some editors (see our ed. p. 204, note on Uses), would of course be an ex- 
ception. 

26. Coming. Relating to thou. See Gr. 377. 

27. Commend. Commit, deliver. See Macb.p. 177. 

32. Spite of intermission. "In defiance of pause required" (Clarke) ; 
not waiting for me to receive my answer. Cf. Macb. p. 245. 

33. Presently. Immediately; as often. Cf. in below. 

34. Meiny. Retinue, attendants. See Wb. under meine, meiny, and 
also under many (n.). The word occiu'S repeatedly in Chaucer, and also 
in Spenser. Cf. F. Q. iii. 9. 11 : 

" That this faire many were compel d at last 
To fly for succour to a little shed ;" 

Id. iii. 12. 23 : " That all his many it affraide did make," etc. Wr. quotes 
Cotgrave, Fr. Diet.: " Mesnie : f. A meynie, familie, household, household 
companie, or seruants." 

40. Displayed so saucily. Made so impudent a display ; the only in- 
stance of the intransitive verb in S. 

41. Drew. For the ellipsis of the subject, see Gr. 399, 401. 

50. Dolours. For the play on the word, cf. Temp. ii. 1. 18 and M.for M. 
i. 2. 50. 

51. Tell. "Count, or recount; according to the sense in which do- 
lours is understood " ( Wr.). See Temp. p. 123. 

52. Mother. Used as synonymous with Hysterica passio, or what we 
call hysteria. Ritson quotes Harsnet, Declaration, etc., p. 25 : " Ma : 
Maynie had a spice of the Hysterica passio, as it seems from his youth, 
hee himselfe termes it the Moother (as you may see in his confession)." 
Master Richard Mainy, who was persuaded by the priests that he was 
possessed of the devil, deposes as follows, p. 263 : "The disease I spake 
of, was a spice of the Mother, where-with I had beene troubled (as is be- 
fore mentioned) before my going into Fraunce : whether I doe rightly 
terme it the Mother or no, I know not." 

59. Hozv chance? How chances it ? See Gr. 37. 
63. To an ant, etc. See Prov. vi. 6-8. " If, says the Fool, you had 
been schooled by the ant, you would have known that the king's train, 



ACT II. SCENE IV. 



209 



like that sagacious animal, prefer the summer of prosperity to the colder 
season of adversity, from which no profit can be derived " (Malone). 

72. Sir. Cf. Temp. v. 1. 69 : " a loyal sir ;" T JV. iii. 4. 81 : " some sir 
of note," etc. For the ironical use of the word, see Oth. p. 174, note on 
Play the sir. Some editors follow the 4th folio in pointing " That, sir, 
which," etc. 

79. Perdy. A corruption of par Dien. Cf. Hen. V. ii. I. 52, etc. 

82. Deny. Refuse ; as often. See R. and J. p. 159. 

83. Fetches. Shifts, pretexts. Cf. Ham. ii. 1. 38 : " a fetch of warrant;" 
and see our ed. p. 199. 

84. Images. Signs, tokens. The word may be metrically a dissyllable, 
as Walker and Abbott (Gr. 471) make it. Cf. Macb. p. 204, note on 
Horses. 

86. Quality. Temper, disposition ; as in 131 below. 

87. Unremovable. Immovable. We find irremovable in W. T. iv. 4. 
518, and tmremovably in T. of A. v. 1. 227. See K. John, p. 180, note on 
Ingrateful. Gr. 442. 

90. Fiery? what quality? The quartos have "What fiery quality?" 

96. Commands her service. The folios read " commands, tends, ser- 
vice." 

100. Office. Service, duty. Cf. 173 below. 

" The strong interest now felt by Lear, to try to find excuses for his 
daughter, is most pathetic" (Coleridge). 

104. More headier. See on i. 1. 71. These double comparatives and su- 
perlatives occur with more than usual frequency in this play. Heady 
here is "not headstrong,h\\t headlong, impetuous'''' (Schmidt). Cf. Hen. 
V. p. 164. Wr. cites 2 Timothy, iii. 4. 

107. Persuades. To help out the measure, Hanmer reads "persuad- 
eth," and Steevens conjectures " almost persuades." 

108. Remotion. Removal (from their own house to Gloster's castle). 
Schmidt makes it = " holding one's self at a distance, non-appearance." 
Cf. T. of A. iv. 3. 346: "All thy safety were remotion, and thy defence 
absence." 

109. Practice. Artifice. See on i. 2. 161 above, 
in. Presently. See on 33 above. 

1 13. Till it cry sleep to death. " Till its clamour murders sleep " (Wr.). 
Steevens strangely took it to mean " till it cries out, ' Let them awake no 
more ;' " and Johnson printed sleep to death in italics, as if it were the cry 
of the drum. Mason made it read "death to sleep." 

116. Cockney. The word here seems to mean a cook, though it may be 
only a cockney cook (the noun being understood), or a London cook ; 
perhaps an allusion to some familiar story of the time. Tyrwhitt cites 
passages from Piers the Plowman and The Titmament of Tottenham, in 
which the word also appears to be = cook; but Whalley, Malone^and 
Douce explain it differently. S. uses it only here and in T N. iv. i. 15, 
where it appears to be used in the modern sense (see our ed. p. 156). For 
the origin of the word (which has been much disputed), see F. or Wb. s. v. 

117. Knapped. The folios have "knapt," the quartos "rapt," which 
Steevens prefers, on the ground that knap means only to "snap or break 

o 



2IO 



NOTES. 



asunder" (cf. M. of V. iii. I. io, and see our ed. p. 147). Schmidt, in his 
Lexicon, puts down knap here as a separate word ( — " rap ") ; but the two 
are probably identical. Wr. well defines knapped here by "cracked," 
which we use in both senses {rap and snap). 

119. 'Twas her brother, etc. "The Fool here intimates that absurd 
cruelty and absurd kindness have the same origin " (J. H.). 

126. Sepulchring. Cf. R. of L. 80$: "May likewise be sepulchred in 
thy shade ;" and T. G. of V. iv. 2. 118 : " Or at the least, in hers sepul- 
chre thine." In both passages the accent is on the penult, as here. The 
noun has the modern accent in S. except in Rich. II. i. 3. 196 (see our ed. 
p. 165). Milton makes the same distinction. Cf. the verb in the Epitaph 
on Shakes. 15 : "And, so sepulchred, in such pomp dost lie ;" and the 
noun in S. A. 102 : " My self my sepulchre, a moving grave ;" and Comus, 
471 : " Oft seen in charnel vaults and sepulchres." 

128. Naught. Bad, wicked ; usually spelt naught in the early eds. 
when it has this sense, but nought when=nothing. See A. Y. L. p. 142, 
or Rich. III. p. 182. 

129. Sharp-tooth' 'd unkindness. Cf. i. 4. 279 above. For the allusion 
to the vulture of Prometheus, cf. 2 Hen. IV. v. 3. 145, I Hen. VI. iv. 3. 47, 
T. A. v. 2. 31, etc. 

131. Quality. Disposition, nature. Cf. 86 above. 

132. Take patience. Cf. W. T. iii. 2. 232 : " take your patience to you." 
See also Hen. VIII. v. 1. 106. 

One of the peculiar " double negatives " 
Cf. A. Y. L. p. 156, note on No more do 
" You are apter to depreciate her than 
she to scant her duty." F. asks : "Is the levity ill-timed that suggests 
that perhaps Regan's speech puzzles poor old Lear himself quite as 
much as his commentators, and he has to ask her to explain : ' Say, how 
is that ?' " 

140. O, sir, you are old, etc. Coleridge remarks: "Nothing is so 
heart-cutting as a cold, unexpected defence or palliation of a cruelty pas- 
sionately complained of, or so expressive of thorough hard-heartedness. 
And feel the excessive horror of Regan's 'O, sir, you are old!' — and 
then her drawing from that universal object of reverence and indulgence 
the very reason for her frightful conclusion — ' Say you have wrong'd her.' 
All Lear's faults increase our pity for him. We refuse to know them 
otherwise than as means of his sufferings and aggravations of his daugh- 
ters' ingratitude." 

142. Confine. For the accent of the noun in S. see Ham. p. 176. Gr. 490. 

145. Make return. Return, go back ; as in T. G. of V. ii. 7. 14, M.for 
M. iv. 3. 107, T. N. i. 4. 22, etc. S. does not use the phrase in the modern 
sense (=make requital). 

147. The house. "The order of families, duties of relation" (Warb.). 
Steevens cites Chapman, Blind Beggar of Alexandria, 1598 : " Come up 
to supper ; it will become the house wonderful well." The Coll. MS. has 
" the mouth," which, as F. suggests, may very likely be what S. wrote. 
Schmidt compares the horror of Coriolanus {Cor. v. 3. 56) when his 
mother kneels to him. 



133. You less know how, etc, 
explained by Schmidt, p. 1420 
yours. Here the meaning is 



ACT II. SCENE IV. 211 

149. Age is unnecessary. Johnson explains this " Old age has few 
wants ;" but of course it is merely an ironical apology for his useless 
existence, as Wr. makes it. 

For the scanning of the line, see Gr. 458. 

151. Unsightly tricks. We believe that this refers to Lear's kneeling, 
though K. thinks that he does not kneel. According to Davies (quoted 
by F.), " Garrick threw himself on both knees, with his hands clasped, 
and in a supplicating tone repeated this touching, though ironical, peti- 
tion." 

153. Abated. Deprived. The construction is not found elsewhere in S. 

154. Strook. The early eds. have "strooke" or "stroke," as in many 
other passages ; oftener than " struck," which the modern editors (except 
F.) print here. For the participle the early eds. have struck, strook or 
strooke, stroke, strooken, stroken, strucken (see i. 4. 82 above), and stricken. 

157. Ingrateful top. Ungrateful head. S. uses ingrateful much oftener 
than ungrateful. See on 87 above. For top, cf. A. W. i. 2. 43 : " and 
bowed his eminent top to their low ranks," etc. 

Her young bones. Her unborn infant; as Addis, Wr., and F. explain 
it. Cf. the old play oiKing leir : 

" Alas, not I : poore soule, she breeds yong bones, 
And that is it makes her so tutchy sure." 

158. Taking. Malignant, bewitching; as in iii. 4. 58 below. Cf. also 
Ham. i. 1. 163 : " No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to harm ;" and see 
our ed. p. 177. 

162. Fall. Malone made the verb transitive (=cause to fall, humble), 
as it often is (see J. C. p. 169, note on They fall their crests); but we have 
no doubt that it is intransitive. As Wr. remarks, this is more in keeping 
with drazvn and blast. It is also the sense in which S. uses it in similar 
passages ; as in Temp. ii. 2. 2 (a strikingly parallel imprecation) : 

"All the infections that the sun sucks up 
From fogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him 
By inch-meal a disease!" 

and M.for M. v. 1. 122 : 

"Shall we thus permit 
A scandalous and a blasting breath to fall 
On him so near us?" 

See also M. N. D. ii. 1. 90, A. W. i. 1. 79, Mac 6. iv. 1. 105, iv. 3. 227, etc. 

For blast her pride, the folios have simply "blister." 

166. Tender-hefted. The folio reading ; the quartos having " tender 
hested." Neither is easily explained. As //<?/?j = heavings in W. T. ii. 1. 
45, Steevens thought tender-hefted 'might mean "whose bosom is agitated 
with tender passions." The only other sense of heft (not found in S.) is 
haft or handle; whence some make the compound=" held by tender- 
ness," " tender, gentle, to touch or to approach," " set in a tender handle 
or delicate bodily frame," etc. On the other hand, /2<?.tf= command (see 
Temp. p. 118), and tender- hested, it is said, may be = " governed by gentle 
dispositions." All these interpretations seem to us mere " tricks of 
desperation." There is probably some corruption in the passage, but 
tender-hearted, the only emendation that has been proposed, is "tolerable 



2I2 NOTES. 

and not to be endured." S. could never have written " tender-hearted 
nature." 

168. Do comfort and not burn. Malone compares T. of A. v. I. 134: 
" Thou sun, that comfort'st, burn !" 

170. Sizes. Allowances. Wr. says: "The words sizar and sizing are 
still well known in Cambridge ; the former originally denoting a poor 
student, so called from the sizes or allowances made to him by the college 
to which he belonged." 

178. Approves. Confirms ; as in i. 1. 177 and ii. 2. 154 above. 

180. Easy-borrow'd. "Borrowed without the trouble of doing anything 
to justify it'" (M.). 

183. Stock d. See on ii. 2. 126 above. 

186. Allow. Approve of; as in the Prayer-Book version of Ps. xi. 6 : 
" The Lord alloweth the righteous " (Upton). Warb., Theo., and Han- 
mer read " Hallow." 

195. Less advancement. "A still worse, or more disgraceful situation" 
(Percy). It appears to be, as Schmidt terms it, "an undisguised sneer." 

204. To wage. That is, to wage combat, to contend ; not elsewhere 
used by S. in this sense without an object. 

205. The wolf and owl. The reading of all the early eds. The Coll. 
MS. has "howl," making pinch the object of the verb, which F. adopts 
and defends. He rightly objects to the ordinary pointing, "owl, — Neces- 
sity's sharp pinch !" which, by putting this latter clause in explanatory 
apposition with the rest of the sentence, makes a very feeble ending to it. 
But, as we take it, Necessity 's sharp pinch ! is an exclamation that has no 
such connection with what precedes. It may mean, Is this the pinch to 
which Necessity brings me ? Or it is barely possible that it is a sarcastic 
reference to the excuse which Regan has given for not receiving him — 
that she is away from home, and has not the means of entertaining him. 
Schmidt points it as an anacoluthon, " Necessity's sharp pinch — ," leav- 
ing us to guess at what Lear would have said, but for the sudden turn in 
the tide of his passion. The worst of these attempts to explain the old 
text is better than making him swear not only to be a comrade with the 
wolf, but to howl with the wolf! And to howl a pinch at that ! Can Neces- 
sity's sharp pinch drive a critic to such a pass ? Rather let us give up 
the knot as too intrinse to unloose. F. notes as " a slight corroboration " 
of his reading that in iii. 1. 13 we find "the bt\\y-pinched wolf" and that 
" the howling of the 7volf\s again referred to in iii. 7. 62." That the wolf 
should be pinched with hunger need not surprise us, and that he should 
howl is no wonder either in zoology or in rhetoric ; but that a man who 
resolves to dwell with him should also howl with him is verily a marvel. 
But, it is asked, "what companionship is there between wolves and owls, 
beyond the fact that they are both nocturnal ?" Perhaps that ought to 
satisfy us ; at any rate, the poets often put them together, as S. himself 
does in R. of L. 165 : 

"No comfortable star did lend his light; 
No noise but owls' and wolves' death-boding cries." 

207. France. For the construction, see Gr. 417. 

209. Knee. Kneel before. The verb occurs again in Cor. v. I. $ : 



ACT II. SCENE IV. 

"A mile before his tent fall down, and knee 
The way into his mercy." 



213 



Schmidt thinks it has the same meaning here as there. 

211. Sumpter. A pack-horse. Wr. quotes Cotgrave, Fr.Dict. : " Som- 
mier : m. A Sumpter-horse; (and generally any toyling, and load carry- 
ing, drudge, or groome)." 

218. Boil. Spelt "Bile" or "Byle" in the early eds., as in other 
printing of the time ; doubtless indicating the pronunciation of the word. 

219. Embossed. Tumid ; as in A. Y. L. ii. 7. 67 : " And all the embossed 
sores and headed evils," etc. The emboss in A. W. iii. 6. 107, as Furnivall 
has shown, is of different origin (Old Fr. emboser— em boiler). This is Cot- 
grave's "Emboister : To imbox, inclose, insert, fasten, put, or shut vp, as 
within a box." See also Wb. 

223. High-judging Jove. Cf. Milton's " all -judging Jove" (lycidas, 82). 

234. Sith. See on i. 1. 173 above. Charge — expense ; as in K. John, 
i. 1. 49 : " this expedition's charge," etc. See also Rich. II. p. 175. 

237. Hold amity. Keep friendship. Wr. compares " hold friendship " 
in L. L. L. ii. 1. 141. " Hold antipathy " occurs in ii. 2. 81 above. 

240. Slack ye. Neglect you. Cf. i. 3. 10 above. For ye, see Gr. 236. 

244. Notice. Attention, recognition. Cf. Cymb. ii. 3. 45 : "I have 
assailed her with music, but she vouchsafes no notice." 

245. And in good time you gave it. H. remarks : " Observe what a com- 
pact wolfishness of heart is expressed in these few cold words ! It is 
chiefly in this readiness of envenomed sarcasm that Regan is discrimi- 
nated from Goneril ; otherwise they seem almost too much like mere 
repetitions of each other to come fairly within the circle of Nature, who 
never repeats herself." 

246. My guardians. "The guardians under me of my realms" (M.). 
248. With. By. Cf. 302 below. Gr. 193. 

251. Well- favoured. Well in favour, or features (see Ham. p. 263, or 
M. N. D. p. 130). Cf. Much Ado, iii. 3. 15, T. N. i. 5. 169, etc. 

Some editors put a period after well-favour J d, and a comma after wicked 
in the next line. 

252. Not being the worst, etc. Steevens compares Cymb. v. 5. 215 : 

"It is I 
That all the abhorred things o' the earth amend 
By being worse than they." 

256. What need, etc. How need, or why need, etc. See R. and J. p. 
160. Gr. 253. 

259. O, reason not, etc. " Observe that the tranquillity which follows 
the first stunning of the blow permits Lear to reason " (Coleridge). 

260. Are in the poorest, etc. " Have in their deepest poverty some very 
poor thing which may be called superfluous " (M.). 

265. Need, — . "To imagine how Shakespeare would have ended this 
sentence, one must be a Shakespeare. The poor king stops short in his 
definition ; it is too plain that his true need is patience " (M.). 

266. Patience, patience I need. Pope changed the second patience to 
"which." Mason points thus : "patience: — patience I need." Perhaps, 



214 



NOTES. 



as Malone conjectured, the repetition of patience was a slip of the com- 
positor. Omitting it, patience would be a trisyllable, as often. 

269. Stirs. See on i. 1. 232 and ii. 1. 113 above. Gr. 247. 

271. To bear. As to bear. See on i. 4. 36 above. 

280. Flatus. " Shivers " (Bailey). " A flaw signifies a crack, but is 
here used for a small broken particle " (Malone). 

281. Or ere. A reduplication, or being = before. See Temp. p. 112. 

284. Bestoznid. Lodged. See Ham. p. 212. 

285. Hath. For the omission of the subject, see on ii. 4. 41 above. F. 
prints " 'hath." Cf. 290 below. 

287. For his particular. As to him personally, so far as he himself is 
concerned. Cf. Cor. iv. 7. 13 : 

" Yet I wish, sir — 
T mean for your particular — you had not 
Join'd in commission with him;" 

and T. and C. ii. 2. 9 : 

"Though no man lesser fears the Greeks than I, 
As far as toucheth my particular, 
Yet, dread Priam," etc. 

Wr. quotes A. and C. iv. 9. 20 and A. W. ii. 5. 66. 

296. Ruffle. Grow boisterous. The quartos have " russel " or " rus- 
sell." The word is = rustle in T of S. iv. 3. 60 : 

"The tailor stays thy leisure, 
To deck thy body with his ruffling treasure." 

It is used figuratively (=be turbulent) in T. A. i. 1. 313 : "To ruffle in 
the commonwealth of Rome." 

300. With. See on 248 above. 

"Regan's barefaced pretence, — insisting on speaking of her old father 
as still attended by a large train of followers, both in this speech and the 
one a little before, where she talks of there not being room for ' the old 
man and his people,' while in reality he has with him only his faithful 
Kent and Fool, — is thoroughly in character with her brassy nature" 
(Clarke). 

301. Incense. Instigate, provoke. See Much Ado, p. 166. 



ACT III. 

Scene I. — 4. Elements. The quartos have " element." For the use 
of the word =sky, see J. C. p. 140. 

6. The main. The mainland. Elsewhere in S. it means the sea. Cf. 
Sonn. 64. 7 : " the watery main ;" King John, ii. 1. 26 : " England, hedg'd 
in with the main," etc. Steevens quotes from Bacon's Considerations 
touching a War with Spain : " In the year that followed, of 1589, we gave 
the Spaniards no rest, but turned challengers, and invaded the main of 
Spain ;" where the context shows that he is speaking of landing an army 
on the coast of Spain itself. 



ACT III. SCENE I. 



215 



On curled waters, cf. 2 Hen. IV. iii. 1. 23 : 

"Who take the ruffian billows by the top, 
Curling their monstrous heads," etc. 

7-15. Tears his . . . take all. Omitted in the folios. 

8. Eyeless. Blind, undiscerning. Cf. K. John, p. 178. 

9. Make nothing of. Treat with contempt (the opposite of " make much 
of"), as Schmidt explains it ; not ^annihilate, as Heath thought. 

10. His little world of man. Probably, as J. H. and F. suggest, an allu- 
sion to the ancient notion of man as the microcosm, or little world, con- 
taining in miniature the elements of the macrocosm, or the universe. Cf. 
Rich. II. v. 5. 9 : " And these same thoughts people this little world ;" 
and see our ed. p. 216. Schmidt compares I. C. 7 : " Storming her world 
with sorrow's wind and rain." 

For out-scorn Steevens conjectures " out-storm," and compares the pas- 
sage just quoted from L. C. 

12. Cub-drawn. Sucked dry by her cubs, and made hungry by it 
(Schmidt). Pope explained it "drawn by nature to its young;" and Up- 
ton, " having her cubs drawn from her, robbed of her cubs." Cf. A. Y. I. 
iv. 3. 115 : "A lioness, with udders all drawn dry ;" and Id. iv. 3. 127 : 
" the suck'd and hungry lioness." See also Rich. III. ii. 2. 30. 

14. Unbounded. Cf. Oth. i. 2. 23 ; and for bonuel=cap, see Rich. II. 
p. 169. 

15. Take all. Cf. M. W. i. 3. 84 : " then Lucifer take all !" 2 Hen. VI. 
iii. 1. 307 : " nay, then, a shame take all !" etc. 

17. Heart-strook. The folios have " heart-strooke " or "heart-strook," 
the quartos " heart strooke." See on ii. 4. 154 above. 

18. Note. " Observation" (Johnson), or knowledge. See W. T. p. 148, 
on Into my note, or T. N. p. 160, on Come to note. The quartos have 
"Arte" or "art," which Steevens explained as "skill in physiognomy." 

20. Is. The quartos and most modern eds. have "be." 

22. Who have, etc. Lines 22-29 are omitted in the quartos, and lines 
30-42 in the folios. It is possible, as Schmidt suggests, that something 
may have been lost between 29 and 30, and that this may account for the 
incomplete sentences ; but, on the other hand, the poet may have written 
them so. 

23. Throned. The quartos, followed by some modern eds., have 
" Throne." As Clarke remarks, " the twice-recurring have in the pre- 
ceding line" may explain the ellipsis of the word before throned. 

Who seem no less. Who seem nothing else than servants, and not the 
spies that they really are. Capell explained it "that seem as great as 
themselves, servants in high place." 

24. Speculations. " Speculators ;" which Johnson conjectured to be 
the true reading, and which Sr. (2d ed.) and H. adopt. The Coll. MS. 
gives "spectators." Schmidt, in his lexicon (p. 1421), gives more than 
sixty instances in S. of this use of the abstract for the concrete ; and F. 
adds discretion in ii. 4. 143 below. 

25. Intelligent. " Giving information " (Johnson). Cf. iii. 5. 9 and iii. 
7. 11 below. See also W. T. p. 161. 

26. Snuffs. " Huffs, offence-taking " (Schmidt). Cf. 1 Hen. IV. p. 149, 



2 l6 NOTES. 

on Took it in snuff. Wr. cites B. J., Silent Woman, iv. 2: " He went away 
in snuff." 

Tackings = p\ottmgs. Cf. T. of S. v. I. 121 : " Here 's packing, with a 
witness, to deceive us all !" See also Much Ado, p. 167, note on TacWd. 

29. Furnishings. " Colours, external pretences" (Johnson). 

30. Tower. Army ; as often, both in the singular and the plural. Cf. 
iii. 3. 11, iv. 2. 17, iv. 3. 48, iv. 4. 21, etc., below. 

31. Scattered. "Divided, unsettled, disunited" (Johnson). Hanmer 
substituted "shatter'd ;" a word, by the by, which S. uses only in Ham. 
ii. 1. 95. Milton has shatter— scatter, in Lycidas, 5 : " Shatter your leaves 
before the mellowing year." 

32. Feet. Footing. The later quartos have " see," and Pope, Theo., 
and Hanmer read" "sea." Upton conjectured "seat" or "perhaps 'see' 
for the Latin sedes' 1 ' 1 (cf. a bishop's see). 

33. At point. See on i. 4. 316 above. 

36. To make. As to make. See on i. 4. 36 and ii. 4. 12 above. 

39. Tlain. Complain. See Rich. II. p. 164. 

43. I will talk further with you. This implies a courteous postpone- 
ment or dismissal of a request; hence Kent's reply (Delius). 

45. Out-wall. Exterior. Cf. wall in T. IV. i. 2. 48, and K. John, iii. 3. 20. 

48. That. The quartos have "your," which is adopted by many edi- 
tors, and is perhaps to be preferred, as S. generally uses the possessive 
pronoun with fellozv — companion. 

52. To effect. As to effect. See Gr. 186. 

53. Tain. Labour, effort {will be or lies being understood). S. uses 
both pain and pains in this sense; now we use only the latter. Cf. M. 
of V. p. 140, note on Take pain, or Hen. VIII. p. 184, note on To 1 en much 
pain. 

Scene II. — 2. Hurricanoes. Water-spouts. Cf. T. and C. v. 2. 172: 

"the dreadful spout 
Which shipmen do the hurricano call." 

Nares quotes Drayton, Mooncalf, 168: 

"And downe the shower impetuously doth fall, 
Like that which men the Hurricano call." 

Wr. notes that in Raleigh's Guiana it is called "hurlecan" and "hurle- 
cano." 

3. Cocks. That is, the weathercocks. 

4. Thought - executing. "Doing execution with rapidity equal to 
thought" (Johnson). Moberly makes it =" executing the thought of 
Him who casts you." 

5. Vaunt-couriers. Forerunners, precursors ; originally " the foremost 
scouts of an army " (Steevens). Malone compares Temp. i. 2. 201 : 

"Jove's lightnings, the precursors 
O' the dreadful thunder-claps." 

The quartos spell the word "vaunt-currers," the folios " Vaunt-curriors." 
Wr. cites Cotgrave, Fr. Diet. : " Avant-coureur : m. A forerunner, Auant 
curror." 



ACT III. SCENE II. 



217 



7. Strike. The quartos have " Smite." 

8. Germens. Seeds ; as in Macb. iv. 1. 59. See our- ed. p. 230. Theo. 
remarks that we have the same thought in W. T. iv. 4. 489 : 

" Let nature crush the sides o' the earth together, 
And mar the seeds within." 

Spill= destroy (Steevens). Cf. Gower, Conf. Am. iv. : "So as I shall 
myself spill." Wr. cites Chaucer, C. T. 12839 (Tyrwhitt, 8379) : 

"My child and I, with hertely obeisaunce, 
Been youres al, and ye mowe save or spille 
Youre owene thyng." 

See also Spenser, F. Q. iii. 7. 54 : " Badd her commaund my life to save 

or spill ;" and Id. v. 10. 2 : 

"As it is greater prayse to save then spill, 
And better to reforme then to cut off the ill." 

10. Court holy-water. " Ray, among his proverbial phrases, mentions 
court holy-water to mean fair words. The French have the same 
phrase : Eau benite de cour' 1 '' (Steevens). Cotgrave, cited by Malone, has 
" Eau beniste de Cotir. Court holy water ; complements, faire words, 
flattering speeches," etc. 

12. Pities. For the ellipsis of the relative, see Gr. 244. Cf. i. 4. 58 
above. 

15. Fire. A dissyllable. Gr. 480. 

16. / tax not you, etc. M. compares A. Y. L. ii. 7. 174 fol. : " Blow, 
blow, thou winter wind," etc. For tax the quartos have " taske." 

18. Subscription. Submission, obedience; the only instance of the 
noun in S. Cf. the use of the verb in i. 2. 19 above and iii. 7. 64 below. 

22. Will . . .join. The quartos read "haue . . . ion'd." 

23. High-engender 'd. High=in the heavens; as in high-judging, ii. 4. 
223 above. 

27. That makes his toe, etc. Makes that his last object which should 
be his first (Capell). F. paraphrases the quatrain thus : " A man who 
prefers or cherishes a mean member in place of a vital one shall suffer 
enduring pain where others would suffer merely a twinge. Lear had 
preferred Regan and Goneril to Cordelia." 

31. For there was never yet, etc. " This is the Fool's way of diverting 
attention after he has said something a little too pointed ; the idea of a 
very pretty woman making faces in a looking-glass raises a smile " (F.). 
For made mouths, cf. Ham. p. 246. 

39. Gallow. Affright ; the only instance of the word in S. According 
to Nares, the word in the corrupt form of gaily is still used in the West 
of England. For the derivation, see Wb. 

43. Carry. Bear, sustain. 

44. Affliction. Used for "any painful sensation" (Schmidt). H. says 
''■Affliction for injliction, the two being then equivalent;" but he gives no 
authority for the statement, and we can find none. It is true, of course, 
that the words have the same root, and that one might sometimes be 
substituted for the other. 

45. Pudder. The folio spelling, followed by Rowe, Theo., K., Sr., F., 



2I g NOTES. 

and others. The ist quarto has "Powther," and the 2d "Thundring." 
Most editors read " pother." F. remarks : *' It is to me a sufficient rea- 
son for preferring pudder to pother, that Charles Lamb preferred it ; in 
his remarks on this play it is the word he uses." Steevens quotes B. and 
F., Scornful Lady, ii. 2: " Some fellows would have cryed now, and have 
curst thee, and fain out with their meat, and kept a pudder." 

49. Simidar. Simulator. The quartos have " simular man." The 
adjective occurs in Cymb. v. 5. 200 : " with simular proof enough " (that 
is, pretended, counterfeited). 

52. Has. The quartos have " Hast." For examples of the verb in the 
third person with a relative whose antecedent is of the first or second 
person, see Gr. 247. Practised 0//=plotted against. Cf. the noun in i. 2. 
161 above. 

53. Continents. " That which contains or encloses " (Johnson and 
Schmidt). See Ham. p. 246, or M. N. D. p. 142. The quartos have " cen- 
ters." 

Cry grace— cry for grace or pardon. Cf. cry yon mercy (see M. N. D. 
p. 159) and cry yon pardon {Oth. v. 1. 93). 

54. Summoners. The officers that summon offenders before a tribunal 
(Steevens). 

56. Gracious my lord. See Gr. 13. Cf. iii. 4. 1 below. 

59. More harder. See on i. I. 71 above. The quartos read "More 
hard then is the stone," etc. 

60. Even but now. See Gr. 38. 

Demanding. Inquiring, asking. See Ham. p. 243, and cf. v. 3. 63 below. 

62-68. Dr. Bucknill remarks: "The import of this must be weighed 
with iv. 6. 100-104, when Lear is incoherent and full of delusion. Insan- 
ity arising from mental and moral causes often continues in a certain 
state of imperfect development ; . . . a state of exaggerated and pervert- 
ed emotion, accompanied by violent and irregular conduct, but uncon- 
nected with intellectual aberration; until some physical shock is incurred, 
— bodily illness, or accident, or exposure to physical suffering ; and then 
the imperfect type of mental disease is converted into perfect lunacy, 
characterized by more or less profound affection of the intellect, by de- 
lusion or incoherence. This is evidently the case in Lear, and although 
we have never seen the point referred to by any writer, and have again 
and again read the play without perceiving it, we cannot doubt from these 
passages, and especially from the second, in which the poor madman's 
imperfect memory l'efers to his suffering in the storm, that S. contemplated 
this exposure and physical suffering as the cause of the first crisis in the 
malady. Our wonder at his profound knowledge of mental disease in- 
creases, the more carefully we study his works ; here and elsewhere he 
displays with prolific carelessness a knowledge of principles, half of 
which would make the reputation of a modern psychologist." 

65. The art. " The alchemy or transforming power " (M.). 

68. That 's sorry. The quartos read " That sorrowes." 

69. He that has and, etc. Cf. T N. v. 1. 398 fob " This may have been 
the same song, but changed by the Fool to suit the occasion " (F.). For 
the expletive and, see T. N. p. 169. Cf. Gr. 95, 96. 



ACT III. SCENES III AMD IV. 



219 



74. / '// speak a prophecy, etc. The whole of this speech is omitted in 
the quartos. W. and Clarke believe it to be an interpolation, and we 
are inclined to agree with them. Cf. Ham. iii. 2. 42 : " And let those 
that play your clowns speak no more than is set down for them," etc. 
See our ed. p. 221. 

The prophecy is an imitation of one formerly ascribed to Chaucer: 

"Whan prestis faylin in her sawes, 
And turnin Goddis lawes 
Ageynis ryt ; 

Than schall the lond of Albion 
Turnin to confusion," etc. 

87. Merlin. Cf. I Hen. IV. iii. 1. 150: " the dreamer Merlin and his 
prophecies." 

I live before his time. The Fool's nonsense, of course ; but M. thinks 
it refers to the chronology of the old legend, which makes Lear contem- 
porary with Joash, King of Judah. 

Scene III. — 4. Neither . . . or. Schmidt compares M.for M. iv. 2. 
108 : " neither in time, matter, or other circumstance," etc. 

11. Home. Fully. See on ii. 1. 51 above, and cf. iii. 4. 16 below. 

12. Footed. On foot ; or perhaps = " landed," which is the quarto 
reading. Cf. iii. 7. 44 below. 

look. Look for, " seek " (the quarto reading). Cf. A. Y. I. ii. 5. 34 : 
"He hath been all this day to look you;" and see our ed. p. 161. Gr. 
200. 

17. Toward. At hand. See on ii. I. 10 above. For strange things the 
quartos have "some strange thing." 

19. Forbid thee. Forbidden thee ; the usual form of the participle in 
S. Cf. v. 1. 47 below. H. reads " forbid thee !" = " a curse upon thee !" 
and cites Macb. i. 3. 21 : " He shall live a man forbid;" but there the 
meaning comes naturally from the ordinary meaning oi forbidden— to 
whom certain privileges are forbidden, who is placed under a ban. It 
does not follow that the active forbid thee can be— May something be 
forbidden thee, mayst thou be put under a ban ! 

Scene IV.— 6. Think 'st H is much. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 252 : 
"Thou dost, and think'st it much to tread the ooze 
Of the salt deep," etc. 

7. Invades. See on i. 1. 137 above. 

10. Roaring. The 2d quarto has " raging." 

15. As. As if. Cf. v. 3. 201 below. Gr. 107. 

16. Home. See on ii. 1. 51 and iii. 3. 11 above. 

25. Would. See on iii. 2. 12 above, or Gr. 244. 

26, 27. In, boy ... I 7/ sleep. Omitted in the quartos. 
Poverty. The abstract for the concrete. See on iii. 1. 24 above. 
29. Storm. The quartos have "night." 

31. Loofd. Full of holes. For /<?<?/ = hole, see 1 Hen. IV. iv. 1. 71 : 
" all sight-holes, every loop," etc. 



220 



NOTES. 



35. Super/lux. Superfluity ; which is the word S. uses elsewhere. 

37. Fathom and half, etc. Probably Steevens is right in supposing 
that Edgar talks as if taking soundings at sea. W. prints "fadom," 
which is the more common spelling in the early eds. 

46. Blow the winds. The quartos have " blowes the cold wind ;" and 
" thy cold bed " for thy bed. Cf. T. of S. ind. 1. 10 : " go to thy cold bed, 
and warm thee." St. says that to go to a cold bed was=rto go cold to bed ; 
as to lie on a sick bed=to lie sick abed. 

48. Didst thou give all, etc. The quartos read " Hast thou giuen all to 
thy two daughters ?" 

52. Whirlpool. The quartos have " whirli - poole," and the folios 
" Whirle Poole " or " whirlepoole." Wr. and M. print " whirlipool." 

53. Knives under his pillow, etc. That is, to tempt him to suicide. 
Malone quotes Harsnet's Declaration, etc.: "The exam: further saith, 
that one Alexander an Apothecarie, hauing brought with him from Lon- 
don to Denham on a time a new halter, and two blades of kniues, did 
leaue the same, vpon the gallerie floare in her Maisters house." Stee- 
vens quotes Dr. Faustus, 1604: 

"Swords, poisons, halters and envenom 1 d steel, 
Are laid before me to dispatch myself." 

56. Thy five wits. Cf. T. N. iv. 2. 92 : " Alas, sir, how fell you besides 
your five wits?" See also Much Ado, p. 120. 

A-cold. See Gr. 24. Do de, do de, do de is "perhaps intended to ex- 
press the teeth-chattering sound emitted by one who shivers with cold " 
(Clarke). 

58. Star-blasting. Cf. Ham. i. I. 162 : 

"then no planets strike, 
No fairy takes, no witch hath power to charm;" 

and see note in our ed. p. 177. For taking, see on ii. 4. 158 above. 

59. Noxv, and there, etc. " He catches at the fiend, as he would at 
flies" (M.). 

62. Wouldst. The quartos have "Didst" and "them" for 'em. 
65. Pendulous. Impending. Cf. T. of A. iv. 3. 108 : 

"Be as a planetary plague when Jove 
Will o'er some high-vic'd city hang his poison 
In the sick air." 

Schmidt quotes The Birth of Merlin (which has been attributed to S.), 
iv. 1 : " Knowest thou what pendulous mischief roofs thy head?" 

69. Lowness— abject condition. In A. and C. ii. 7. 22 it is used literally 
(—.small elevation), and in Id. iii. II. 63 it is=meanness. 

Unkind. Accented on the first syllable, as usual before a noun (Schmidt). 
For both the accent and the meaning, cf. R. and y. p. 216. See also on 
i. 1. 253 above. 

71. Should have, etc. Delius refers this to the sticking of pins into the 
mortified bare arms, Clarke to the exposure of poor Tom's body to the 
storm. In Edwin Booth's Prompt- Book there is a stage - direction : 
" Draws a thorn, or wooden spike, from Edgar's arm, and tries to thrust 



ACT III. SCENE IV. 221 

it into his own ;" and after line 73 : " Edgar seizes Lear's hand and takes 
away the thorn" (F.). 

72. Judicious. "Wise" (Schmidt). Walker makes it = "judicial ;" 
a sense which it has in Cor. v. 6. 128. 

73. Pelican. Alluding to the fable that the young of the pelican were 
fed with blood from its own breast See Ham. p. 250. Wr. quotes 
Batman vppon Bartholome (ed. 1582), fob 186 b: "The Pellican loueth 
too much her children. For when the children bee haught, and begin to 
waxe hoare, they smite the father and the mother in the face, wherfore 
the mother smiteth them againe and slaieth them. And the thirde daye 
the mother smiteth her selfe in her side that the blond runneth out, and 
sheddeth that hot bloud vppon the bodies of her children. And by vir- 
tue of the bloud the birdes that were before dead, quicken againe." 

74. Pillicock. Suggested by pelican. In Ritson's Gammer Gurtorfs 
Garland we find the nursery rhyme : 

"Pillycock, Pillycock sat on a hill; 
If he 's not gone, he sits there still." 

It was often used as a term of endearment. D. quotes Florio : "Pinchiuo, 
a prime-cocke, a pillicocke, a darlin, a beloued lad." 

" It is not unlikely that the next line was meant to imitate the crowing 
of a cock" (F.). 

78. Word justly. The quartos have "words iustly," and the folios 
"words Iustice " or " word, justice." The emendation is Pope's. K. has 
"word's justice" and Schmidt "words' justice." 

Commit. The word seems to have been applied particularly to incon- 
tinence (Malone). Schmidt compares Oth. iv. 2. 72 fol. 

83. Curled my hair. Malone cites Harsnet, p. 54 : " Ma: Maynie the 
Actor, comes mute vpon the stage, with his hands by his side, and his 
haire curled vp. Loe heere (cries Weston the Interpreter) comes vp the 
spirit of pride." Curling the hair seems to have been the mark of a 
swaggerer, for in the same book (p. 139) we are told that the devil was 
said to appear " sometimes like a Ruffian, with curled haire." Wr. com- 
pares T. of A. iv. 3. 160 : " Make curl'd-pate ruffians bald." 

Gloves in my cap. That is, as the favour of a mistress. Cf. Rich. II. 

v.3. 17: 

" And from the common'st creature pluck a glove, 
And wear it as a favour." 

See also T. and C. iv. 4. 73, v. 2. 79, etc. 

87. Light of ear. "Credulous of evil, ready to receive malicious re- 
ports" (Johnson) ; "foolishly credulous" (Schmidt). 

88. Hog in sloth, etc. " Mr. Skeat has pointed out to me that in the 
Ancren Riwle, p. 198, the seven deadly sins are typified by sevenwild 
animals ; the lion being the type of pride, the serpent of envy, the unicorn 
of wrath, the bear of sloth, the fox of covetousness, the swine of greedi- 
ness, and the scorpion of lust" (Wr.). 

93. Suum, mun, nonny. The folio reading ; the quartos have "hay no 
on ny," and most modern eds. combine the two into "suum, mun, ha no 
nonny." Cf. Ham. iv. 5. 165. 



222 NOTES. 

Dolphin my boy. Probably a quotation from a song. Farmer quotes 
B. J., Bartholomew Fair, v. 3 : " he shall be Dauphin my boy ;" and 
Steevens professes to have heard from "an old gentleman" the stanza, 

"Dolphin my boy, my boy, 
Cease, let him trot by ; 
It seemeth not that such a foe 
From me or you would fly." 

Sessa is Malone's reading for the "Sessey" or "Sesey" of the folios. 
Cf. T. of S. ind. 1. 6: "let the world slide ; sessa !" Johnson takes it to 
be the French word cessez (pronounced cessy) used as an interjection=be 
quiet, have done. The quartos have " cease " or " caese." 

95. Thou wert better. See on i. 4. 93 above. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. i. 2. 245 : 
" I were better to be eaten to death with a rust," etc. 

98. The cat. That is, the civet cat. Cf. A. Y. L. iii. 2. 70. 

99. Sophisticated. Adulterated, not genuine; as now often used. The 
word is used by S. only here. 

100. Unaccommodated. " Unsupplied with conveniences" (Schmidt) ; 
the only instance of the word in S. Cf. accommodated in 2 Hen. IV. iii. 
2. 72: "a soldier is better accommodated than with a wife;" and see our 
ed. p. 176. Cf. also iv. 6. 81 below. 

101. Off, off, etc. " The latent madness against which Lear has been 
struggling bursts into violence at sight of the strange and awful object 
which Edgar has made of himself, and he longs to reduce himself, like 
him, to a state of absolute and unmitigated nature" (M.). 

102. For unbutton here the 1st quarto has " come on," and the 2d 
" come on be true." F. remarks : " It has been suggested to me by an 
eminent novelist and dramatist in London that these words are properly 
a stage-direction." 

103. Naughty. Bad ; used in a much stronger sense than now. See 
M. of V. p. 152 ; and cf. iii. 7. 36 below. 

104. Wide. The early eds. and most modern ones have "wild." Jen- 
nens suggested the change, on the ground that wide is better opposed to 
little ; and Walker, who says that "wild is in the manner of modern, not 
Elizabethan poetry," gives other instances from S. and contemporaneous 
writers of the same misprint of wild for wide (F.). 

106. A zvalking fire. That is, Gloster with his torch ; but he is still in 
the distance, and, as F. remarks, it is somewhat premature to mark his 
entrance here, as the quartos and the Camb. editors do. 

107. Flibbertigibbet. This name, like that of the other demons here, is 
from Harsnet. See p. 12 above. Harsnet says : " Frateretto, Fleber- 
digibet, Hoberdidance, Tocobatto, were four deuils of the round, or Mor- 
rice, whom Sara in her fits, tuned together, in measure and sweet cadence." 
It had come to be used figuratively even in that day, for Cotgrave gives 
it as one of the definitions of Coquette: "a Asking, or fiiperous minx, a 
cocket or tatling housewife; a titifill, a flebergebit." 

Walks. Often =go away (Schmidt). Cf. Cymb. i. 1. 176 : " Pray, walk 
awhile." See also M.for M. iv. 5. 12, W. T. i. 2. 172, Oth. iv. 3. 4, and iv. 
7. 83 below. 






ACT III. SCENE IV. 



223 



On the passage, cf. Ham. i. 1. 150 fol. ; and see our ed. p. 176, note on 
/ have heard, etc. 

108. The web and the pin. An old name for cataract in the eye. See 
W. T. p. 158. 

in. Saint Withold. The folios have " Swithold," the quartos "swith- 
old." Some modern eds. print " S. Withold ;" Rowe, Pope, K., Delius, 
D., Schmidt, and F. follow the folios. The name is a corruption of 
St. Vitalis. 

Old (the reading of the early eds., K., D., Wr., F., and others) = " wold" 
(which other eds. give), being another form of the word. Warb. quotes 
Fletcher, Monsieur Thomas : 

" St. George, St. George, our Ladies Knight, 
He walks by day, so does he by night, 
And when he had her found, 
He her beat, and her bound, 
Until to him her troth she plight, 
She would not stir from him that night." 

Steevens says that the same, with slight changes, is found in Reginald 
Scot's Discovery of Witchcraft, book iv. chap. xi. 

112. Her nine-fold. That is, her nine imps, or familiars (Capell). 

115. Aroint thee. Evidently implying aversion, and = " Away with 
thee !" but of doubtful origin. See Macb. p. 156. F. notes that Mr. F. 
D. Matthew has found two instances of arunte ■ (=avoid) in a MS. of 
Trinity College, Dublin. There can be little doubt that this is the same 
word as Shakespeare's aroint. 

117. What 's he? Who 's he ? See Macb. p. 252 or Gr. 254. 

121. Tadpole. The old eds. have "tod pole," "Tod-pole," "Tod- 
pool," or " toade pold ;" but the modern spelling was then in use. Cot- 
grave, quoted by Wr., has " Gyrine : the frog tearmed, a Tadpole." 

The wall-netvt and the water. That is, the lizard so common on stone 
walls in Europe and the water-newt. For the ellipsis in water, cf. M.for 
M. iii. 2. 9 : " furred with fox and lamb-skins." See other examples in 
Schmidt's lexicon, p. 1419. 

123. Sallets. Salads. See Ham. p. 210. Wr. says that the form is 
still used in Sussex. 

Ditch-dog. A dead dog thrown into a ditch. 

124. Mantle. Cf. Temp. iv. 1. 182:' "filthy-mantled pool." 

125. Whipped from tithing to tithing. A tithing is the same in the 
country as a ward in the city. A statute of the time of Elizabeth enacted 
that vagabonds or " tramps " should be publicly whipped and sent from 
parish to parish (Steevens). Cf. Harrison's Description of England, New 
Shaks. Soc. ed. p. 219. 

Stocked, punished. The folio reading ("stockt, punish'd"); the quartos 
have "stock-punisht." 

126. Hath. The quartos read "hath had." Schmidt remarks: "Hath 
had probably accords with the fact, but what have facts to do with mad- 
ness ? Tom hath three suits and six shirts ; — where are they ? who has 
taken them from him ?" 

128, 129. Capell cites the old romance of Sir Bevis of Hatnptozm (see 
Hen. VIII. p. 157) : 



224 NOTES. 

" Rattes and myce and suche smal dere 
Was his meate that seuen yere." 

Deer was sometimes used in the general sense of game. Malone quotes 
Barclay, Eclogues, 1570: 

"Everie sorte of dere 
Shrunk under shadowes abating all their chere." 

For year, cf. Much Ado, p. 147, note on This seven year. See also Rich. 
II. p. 182, note on A thousand pound. 

130. Smulkin. Another name from Harsnet's category of devils, like 
Moclo and Mahu just below. The quartos have "snulbug." 

132. The prince of darkness, etc. Reed quotes Sir John Suckling, 
(joolins, H. I . << -p^g p r i nce f darkness is a gentleman, 

Mahu, Mahu is his name." 

It may be, as Wr. suggests, a quotation from Lear. 

134. Our flesh and blood, etc. Clarke remarks : " One of Shakespeare's 
subtle touches. Some tone or inflection in Edgar's voice has reached 
the father's heart, and bitterly recalls the supposed unfilial conduct of 
his elder son, and he links it with that of Lear's daughters. Edgar, in- 
stinctively feeling this, perseveres with his Bedlam cry, to drown the 
betrayed sound of his own voice, and maintain the impression of his 
assumed character." 

138. To obey. That is, by my obeying. See Gr. 356. Obey in all, etc. 
is =" obey your daughters in all their hard commands " (Wr.). 

142. Is. Cf. ii. 1. 113 above. Gr. 336. 

148. Prevent. Avoid ; or perhaps " with something of its original 
sense of anticipating, being beforehand with, as well as the more com- 
mon meaning" (Wr.). 

To kill vermin. Clarke refers to this as " an instance of Shakespeare's 
dexterous mode of indicating points that would be treated by other 
writers of his time with revolting coarseness." See 2 Hen. IV. p. 177, 
note on So many thousands. 

150. Importune. Accented by S. on the penult. See Ham. p. 190. 

151. His wits, etc. Steevens cites a note by Horace Walpole, in the 
postscript to his Mysterious Mother, where he observes that when " Belvi- 
dera talks of ' Lutes, laurels, seas of milk, and ships of amber,' she is not 
mad, but light-headed. When madness has taken possession of a person, 
such character ceases to be fit for the stage, or, at least, should appear 
there but for a short time ; it being the business of the theatre to exhibit 
passions, not distempers. The finest picture ever drawn, of a head dis- 
composed by misfortune, is that of King Lear. His thoughts dwell on 
the ingratitude of his daughters, and every sentence that falls from his 
wildness excites reflection and pity. Had frenzy entirely seized him, our 
compassion would abate : we should conclude that he no longer felt un- 
happiness. Shakespeare wrote as a philosopher, Otway as a poet." 

157. Late. Lately; as in i.4. 196 above. 

158. True. The 2d quarto (followed by W 7 r.) has " truth." 

160. I do beseech your grace — . "Here Gloster attempts to lead Lear 
towards the shelter he has provided in the farm-house adjoining the 






ACT III. SCENES V. AND VI. 225 

castle ; but the king will not hear of quitting his ' philosopher.' Gloster 
then induces the Bedlam-fellow to go into the hovel, that he may be out 
of Lear's sight ; but Lear proposes to follow him thither, saying ' Let 's 
in all.' Kent endeavours to draw Lear away, but, finding him resolved 
to 'keep still with' his 'philosopher,' begs Gloster to humour the king, 
and ' let him take the fellow' with him. Gloster accedes, and bids Kent 
himself take the fellow with them in the direction they desire to go ; and 
this is done. We point out these details, because, if it be not specially 
observed, the distinction between the ' hovel' and the 'farm-house' would 
hardly be understood. The mention of ' cushions ' and a 'joint-stool ' in 
scene vi. shows it to be some place of better accommodation than the 
' hovel ;' and probably some cottage or farm-house belonging to one of 
Gloster's tenants " (Clarke). 

Cry you mercy. See on iii. 2. 53 above. 

166. Soothe. ' " Humour " (Schmidt). Cf. C. of E. iv. 4. 82 : " Is 't good 
to soothe him in these contraries ?" The word in S. always means either 
to humour or to flatter. Cf. K. John, p. 154. 

171. Child Rowland. The use of Child as the title of a young knight 
is familiar to every reader of the old English ballads and of Spenser. 
Byron has adopted it in Childe Harold. The ballad quoted here has 
never been discovered. Fragments of a Scottish version of the story are 
given by Jamieson in his Illustrations of Norther 71 Antiquities, and in 
Prof. Child's English and Scottish Ballads, i. 245 fol. 

173. A British man. In iv. 6. 229 below, the folios have "English" 
and the quartos " British." See p. 12 above. 

Scene V. — 2. Censured. Judged, estimated. See Much Ado, p. 139, 
and cf. the notes on the noun in Macb. p. 251 and Ham. p. 190. 

Nature =na.tma\ affection. He refers to his giving information against 
his father. See iii. 3. 19 above. 

3. Bears me. Makes me fear, frightens me. See M. of V. p. 137, or 
K. John, p. 147. 

5. A provoking merit. " A merit he felt in himself which irritated him 
against a father that had none " (Mason) ; " a consciousness of his own 
worth which urged him on" (Wr.). Nichols and Clarke take provoking 
merit to refer to Gloster, not to Edgar. 

8. To be just. Of being just. See on iii. 4. 138 above. 
Approves. Proves. See on ii. 4. 178 above. 

9. A11 intelligent party to, etc. A party intelligent to, etc. Cf. iv. 1. 3 
below, and see Macb. p. 226, note on Our suffering country, etc. Schmidt 
makes to depend on parly, not on intelligent. 

17. Comforting. " Giving aid and comfort to;" as the legal phrase still 
is. See W. T. p. 169. 

18. Bersever. The spelling of the first three folios, indicating the old 
pronunciation of the word. See Ham. p. 180, or Gr. 492. 

20. Blood. Equivalent to nature in 3 above, and opposed like that to 
loyalty. 

Scene VI. — 4. Have. The reading of all the early eds., changed in 

P 



226 



NO: 



most modern ones to "hath" or "has." It is one of the instances of 
" confusion of proximity " (Gr. 412) so common in S. 

6. F?-ateretto. See on iii. 4. 107 above. Upton wished to change Nero 
to " Trajan," because Rabelais makes the latter an angler for frogs in 
hell. 

7. Innocent. He is addressing the Fool. Cf. A. W. iv. 3. 213 : " a dumb 
innocent that could not say him nay." See also B. and F., Wit without 

"' "There be three kind of fools. . . . 

An innocent, a knave-fool, a fool politick." 

10. A yeoman. A freeholder, but not a gentleman. Cf. 1 Hen. VI. ii. 
4. 81, 85, 95, and I Hen. IV. iv. 2. 16. 

12-14. No, he's . . . before him. Omitted in the quartos. 

13. For he 's a mad yeoman, etc. H. remarks : "A rather curious com- 
mentary on some of the poet's own doings ; who obtained from the Her- 
alds' College a coat-of-arms in his father's name ; thus getting his yeoman 
father dubbed a gentleman, in order, no doubt, that he himself might in- 
herit his rank." 

16. Hizzing. So in the folios; the quartos have "hissing." Coll. and 
W. adopt Malone's conjecture of "whizzing." 

17-54. The foul . . . let her scape? Omitted in the folios. 

19. A horse's health. "A horse is above all other animals subject to 
disease " (Johnson). Cf. T. ofS. i. 2. 81 : " though she have as many dis- 
eases as two and fifty horses." Warb. suggested " heels," and Ritsori 
quotes a proverb from Ray's Collection, " Trust not a horse's heel, nor a 
dog's tooth," and from Fordun's Scotichronicon, xiv. 32 : 

"Till horsis fote thou neuer traist, 
Till hondis toth, no woman's faith." 

21. Justicer. The quartos have "iustice ;" corrected by Theo. Cf. 54 
below, and Cymb. v. 5. 214: "Some upright justicer." Boswell quotes 
Lambard's Eirenarcha: "And of this it commeth that M. Fitzherbert 
(in his treatise of the Justices of Peace) calleth them jnsticers (contractly 
for justiciars) and not justices, as we commonly, and not altogether un- 
properly, doe name them." 

22. Sapient. Used by S. nowhere else. 

23. Wantest thoit eyes, etc. " Do you want eyes to gaze at and admire 
you during trial, madam ? The fiends are there to serve your purpose " 
(Clarke). 

25. Come o'er, etc. For bourn the quartos have " broome," which 
Capell corrected. Wr. quotes Chappell, Popular Music of the Olden Time, 
p. 505, note : " The allusion is to an English ballad by William Birch, 
entitled ' A Songe betwene the Quenes Majestie and Englande,' a copy 
of which is in the library of the Society of Antiquaries. England com- 
mences the dialogue, inviting Queen Elizabeth in the following" words : 

'Come over the born, Bessy, come over the born, Bessy, 
Swete Bessy, come over to me.' " 

The date of Birch's song is 1558, and it is printed in full in the Harleian 
Miscellany, x. 260. Halliwell gives the music of the song from a MS. of 
the 16th century in the British Museum. 



ACT III. SCENE VI. 227 

30. Nightingale: Apparently suggested by the Fool's singing (Wr.). 
For Hoppedance, see on iii. 4. 107 above. 

White herring. According to Halliwell's Archaic Diet., this means 
fresh herring; but in the North of England pickled herring are so called. 

31. Croak not, etc. Malone quotes Harsnet : " One time shee remem- 
bereth, that shee having the said croaking in her belly, they said it was 
the devil that was about the bed, that spake with the voice of a toad." 

34. Their evidence. The witnesses against them ; changed by Pope to 
" the evidence." See Rich. III. p. 195. 

37. Bench. Used again in W. T. i. 2. 314, where it is — - raise to authority. 

40. Sleepest, etc. Steevens quotes an old play, The Interlude of the Four 
Elements: " Sleepyst thou, wakyst thou, Geffery Coke?" and Halliwell 
compares the poem of King Arthur and the King of Cornwall : "sleepe 
you, wake you, noble King Arthur ?" 

42. Minikin. Small and pretty. Wr. cites Baret, Alvearie: " Elegant : 
neate, fresh, feate, gorgeous, gay, pretie, fine, minikin, tricke and trimme." 

44. Pur. This may be only an imitation of a cat. Ptcrre is, however, 
one of Harsnet's devils (Malone). 

50. Cry you mercy, etc. This was a proverbial expression. Steevens 
quotes Lyly, Mother Bombie, 1594: "I crie you mercy, I tooke you for a 
joynt stoole ;" and Halliwell adds from Withals's Diet. : "Ante hoc te 
cornua habere putabam. I cry you mercy, I tooke you for a ioynd 
stoole." For cry you mercy, cf. iii. 4. 160 above. 

52. Store. If this is what S. wrote, it must be = substance or material. 
Theo. conjectured "stone" and Jennens "stuff." The latter is a very 
plausible emendation. Cf. Temp. iv. 1. 156, Mtich Ado, iii. 1. 50, M. ofV. 
i. 1.4, Ham. iii. 4. 36, etc. 

54. Why hast thou, etc. " Probably in Lear's delirium the ideas suc- 
ceed one another so rapidly that he cannot long hold the thought that he 
has Regan before him ; consequently the vanishing of the image seems 
to him like the actual escape of his daughter" (M.). 

55. Thy five wits. See on iii. 4. 56 above. 

61. They bark at me. " Not so much because they are set on me, as 
because they spontaneously catch the hard-hearted temper of their mas- 
ters" (M.). 

67. Brack. See on i. 4. 107 above. 

lym is Hanmer's correction of the "him" or "Him" of the quartos 
and " Hym " of the folios. The word meant a lime-hound, or a hound 
led in a lime, or leash. See Wb., who, by the by, says " cf. Hym" which 
is not to be found either in the body of the book or in the appendix of 
1879. Ritson quotes Harrington, Orlando Furioso, xli. 30 : 

"His cosin had a Lyme hound argent bright, 
His Lyme laid on his back, he couching down." 

68. Tike. A small dog, or cur. See Hen. V. p. 154. On trundle-tail, 
Steevens quotes Hey wood, Woman Killed with Kindness : "your Dogges 
are trindle-tails and curs." Nares gives t7-indle-tail as " a corruption of 
trundle-tail, or curly -tail," and cites B. and F., Love's Cure, iii. 3 : 

"Like a poor cur, clapping his trindle tail 
Between his legs." 



228 



NOTES. 



69. Him. The quartos have "them," and "leap " in 71. 

71. Hatch. A half-door. See iT. y<?/*«, p. 136. 

72. JJVjjyz / See on iii. 4. 94 above. Steevens conjectures that here it 
may be a female name corrupted from Cecilia, and that the passage may 
be part of an old song : 

"Sissy, come march to wakes, 
And fairs, and market towns." 

F. remarks that " the jingle into which the words naturally fall adds 
probability to this conjecture." 

73. Thy horn is dry. "A horn was usually carried about by every Tom 
of Bedlam, to receive such drink as the charitable might afford him, with 
whatever scraps of food they might give him " (Malone). Aubrey, in his 
MS. Natural Hist, of Wiltshire, in describing "Bedlam beggars," says: 
" they wore about their necks a great horn of an oxe in a string or baw- 
clric, which, when they came to an house for almes, they did wind ; and 
they did putt the drink given them into this horn, whereto they did putt 
a stopple." 

74. Anatomize Regan. That is, dissect her after executing her. 

76. Entertain. Take into service, engage. Cf. T. G. of V. ii. 4. no : 
" Sweet lady, entertain him for your servant " (see also Id. iv. 4. 68) ; 
Much Ado, i. 3. 60 : " entertained for a perfumer," etc. So the noun 
=service ; as in A. W. iii. 6. 13, iv. 1. 17, etc. 

78. Persian. The quartos add "attire." The allusion is to the gorgeous 
robes of the East (Wr.). M. says : "A Persian embassy had been sent 
to England early in James I.'s reign, and a tombstone still remains in the 
churchyard of St. Botolph's, Bishopsgate Street, erected to the memory 
of the secretary of this embassy, with the following inscription : ' If any 
Persian come here, let him read this and pray for his soul. The Lord 
receive his soul ; for here lieth Maghmote (Mohammed) Shaughsware, 
who was born in the town Noroy in Persia.' The joke on outlandish 
dress arises probably from the presence of these Persians in London." 

82. So, so. The quartos also add "so, so, so " at the end of the speech 
after morning. - 

Bucknill remarks here: "Lear is comparatively tranquil in conduct 
and language during the whole period of Edgar's mad companionship. 
It is only after the Fool has disappeared, and Edgar has left to be the 
guide of his blind father, that the king becomes absolutely wild and in- 
coherent. The singular and undoubted fact is, that few things tranquillize 
the insane more than the companionship of the insane. It is a fact not 
easily explicable, but it is one of which, either by the intuition of genius, 
or by the information of experience, S. appears to be aware." 

83. And I HI go to bed at noon. Omitted in the quartos. Clarke ob- 
serves : "This speech is greatly significant, though apparently so trivial. 
It seems but a playful rejoinder to his poor old royal master's witless 
words of exhaustion, but it is, in fact, a dismissal of himself from the 
scene of the tragedy and from his own short day of life. The dramatist 
indeed has added one slight passing touch of tender mention (Kent's say- 
ing, ' Come, help to bear thy master ; thou must not stay behind ') ere he 
withdraws him from the drama altogether; but he seems by this last 



ACT III SCENE VI. 



229 



speech to let us know that the gentle-hearted fellow who ' much pined 
away ' at Cordelia's going into France, and who has since been subjected 
to still severer fret at his dear master's miseries, has sunk beneath the 
accumulated burden, and has gone to his eternal rest even in the very 
' noon ' of his existence." * 

87. Upon. Against. See Gr. 191. 

92. Thine, and all, etc. Thine and that of 'all, etc. As Abbott remarks 
(Gr. 382) the Elizabethan writers object to scarcely any ellipsis that can 
be readily supplied from the context. 

93. Assured loss. Assurance, or certainty, of loss ; or stand in — stand 
in danger of, are exposed to. Delius compares 98 below. 

Take up, take up. The 1st quarto has "Take vp the King," the 2d 
" Take vp to keepe." 

95. Oppressed nature, etc. This speech is not in the folios. 

96. Balni'd. Anointed with healing balm, healed. Elsewhere (T.o/S. 
ind. 1. 48 and Per. iii. 2. 65) it is used of fragrant applications. 

For sinews Theo. suggested " senses " (Malone compares Macb. ii. 2. 
39), but, as Wr. remarks, the change " is not absolutely necessary, for 
Lear had received a great physical as well as mental shock." Schmidt 
notes that sinews is again confounded with nerves in V. and A. 903 : " A 
second fear through all her sinews spread;" but it seems to us that there 
as here the physical effects of a mental state are primarily referred to. 
Fear paralyzes or weakens the muscles, as madness exhausts or breaks 
them. 

97. Convenience. A quadrisyllable. Gr. 479. 

98. Stand in hard cure. Will be hard to cure. Cf. Oth. ii. 1. 51 : 
" Stand in bold cure." 

100-113. This speech is not in the folios, and the Camb. editors con- 
sider that "internal evidence is conclusive against the supposition" that 
S. wrote it ; but, as Delius remarks, it is difficult to comprehend how a 
spurious passage could get into the quartos. The publisher would not 
be likely to attempt to amplify and improve. the MS. of the play as then 
performed, especially when he was in such haste to bring it out. See p. 
10, foot-note, above. It must be confessed, however, that the style is not 
like that of the rest of the play ; but this difference is to be noted in 
other of the poet's rhymed passages. The expression "He childed as I 
father'd" is thoroughly Shakespearian. 

104. Sufferance. Suffering; as often in S. See Much Ado, p. 162, or 
I Hen. IV. p. 195. 

* W., in the paper quoted on i. 4. 91 above, remarks : " About the middle of the play 
the Fool suddenly disappears, making in reply to Lear's remark, ' We '11 go to supper in 
the morning,' the fitting rejoinder, 'And I '11 go to bed at noon.' Why does he not 
return? Clearly for this reason: he remains with Lear during his insanity, to answer in 
antiphonic commentary the mad king's lofty ravings with his simple wit and homespun 
wisdom : but after that time, when Lear sinks from frenzy into forlorn imbecility, the 
Fool's utterances would have jarred upon our ears. The situation becomes too grandly 
pathetic to admit the presence of a jester, who, unless he is professional, is nothing. 
Even Shakespeare could not make sport with the great primal elements of woe. And so 
the poor Fool sought the little corner where he slept, turned his face to the wall, and 
went to bed in the noon of his life for the last time— -functus officio.' 1 '' 



23° 



NOTES. 



105. Bearing. Suffering. Schmidt thinks that bearing fellowship is = 
" companionship in suffering," the phrase being the object of hath ; but 
this is very improbable. 

106. Portable. Bearable, endurable ; as in Macb. iv. 3. 89 : " all these 
are portable." 

108. Childed is not found elsewhere in S. ¥ ox fathered, cf. J. C. ii. 1. 
297 and Macb. iv. 2. 27. 

109. The high noises. " The loud tumults of approaching war " (Stee- 
vens). 

Beiuray. Disclose, discover. See on ii. 1. 107 above. Johnson para- 
phrases the passage thus : " Attend to the great events that are approach- 
ing, and make thyself known when that false opinion now prevailing 
against thee shall, in consequence of just proof of thy integrity, revoke its 
erroneous sentence and recall thee to honour and reconciliation." 

no. Thought* defile. Changed by Theo. to "thought defiles" for the 
sake of the rhyme ; but Walker shows that such imperfect rhymes were 
common in S. and his contemporaries. Cf. T. G. of V. iii. 1. 92, 93, etc. 

in. Repeals. Recalls. Cf. J. C. p. 157, or Rich. II. p. 181. 

112. What will hap. Happen what will. Cf. Gr. 254. 

Scene VII. — 2. Letter. Cf. iii. 5. 8 above. 

3. Traitor. The quartos have " villaine " or "vilaine." 

7. Revenges. For the plural, cf. ii. 4. 274 above. 

9. Festinate. Speedy. The quartos have "festuant," the folios "fes- 
tiuate." The word is used by S. only here, but festinately is one of Ar- 
mado's affectations in L. L. L. iii. I. 6. 

n. Intelligent. The quartos have "intelligence." See on iii. 1. 25 
above. 

12. My lord of Gloster. "Meaning Edmund, newly invested with his 
father's titles " (Johnson). Cf. iii. 5. 14 above. Oswald in 14 refers to 
the old earl. 

16. Questrists. Seekers, searchers (Fr. questeur). The word is not 
found elsewhere. Cf. questant in A. W. ii. I. 16. 

At gate. F. prints " at' gate." Cf. Gr. 90 for similar ellipses, in many 
of which no such absorption oithe is possible. 

17. Lord's dependants. H. and some other editors print "lords de- 
pendants" (^dependant lords); but, as F. remarks, it clearly means 
Gloster's dependants. There were no lords dependent on the king, but 
only certain knights. The question in 45 below doubtless refers to Glos- 
ter's agency in giving Lear an escort of some of his own followers. 

23. Pass upon. " That is, pass a judicial sentence " (Johnson), It is 
still a legal term (F.). 

_ 25. Do a courtesy to. Yield to, obey. Cf. M. for M. ii. 4. 175 : " Bid- 
ding the law make court'sy to their will." 

27. Ingrateful. See on ii. 4. 157 above. 

28. Corky. " Dry, withered, husky " (Johnson). Percy cites Harsnet, 
p. 23 : " It would (I feare me) pose all the cunning Exorcists, that are 
this day to be found, to teach an old corkie woman to writhe, tumble, 
curuet, & fetch her Morice gamboles, as Martha Brossier did." 



ACT III. SCENE VII. 231 

29. Means. The reading of all the early eds. except the 4th folio, 
which has "mean." See Gr. 335. 

32. / ''m none. The quartos read " I am true." 
36. Naughty. See on iii. 4. 103 above. 

38. Quicken. Come to life. See Oth. p. 188. 

39. My hospitable favours. " The . features of me your host" (Wr.). 
Schmidt cites I Hen. IV. iii. 2. 136 : "And stain my favours in a bloody 
mask;" where most editors read "favour."* Steevens quotes Drayton's 
Matilda to K. John : 

" Within the compass of man's face we see 
How many sorts of several favours be ;" 

and David and Bethsabe, 1599: "To daunt the favours of his lovely 
face." 

42. Simple-anszver 1 d. Plain in your answer. Cf. better-spoken in iv. 6. 
10 below. The quartos (followed by Wr. and M.) have "simple an- 
swerer." 

44. Footed. See on iii. 3. 12 above. 

53. I am tied, etc. Cf. Macb. v. 7. 1 : 

" They have tied me to a stake ; I cannot fly, 
But, bear-like, I must fight the course ;" 

and see our ed. p. 252. 

54. To Dover? The quartos add "sir." 

57. Stick. The quartos have "rash," for which see Rich. III. p. 211, 
note on Rased. 

59. Btiofd up. Lifted itself up. Warb. conjectured " boil'd," which 
is also in the Coll. MS. The verb occurs nowhere else in S. For the 
noun, see iv. 6. 19 below. Schmidt makes _/?r<?.y the object of buoyed. 

60. Stelled. Starry; "an adjective coined from stella" (Theo.). 
Schmidt makes stelled ftres = " fixed stars." Cf. stelled— placed, fixed, in 
R. of I. 1444 and Sonn. 24. 1. 

61. Holp. Often used by S. both as past tense and participle. See K. 
John, p. 138, or 1 Hen. IV. p. 147. The quartos have "holpt," and 
" rage " for ram. 

62. Stem. The quartos have "dearn," which Capell and Sr. adopt. 
The word occurs in Per. iii. prol. 15: "By many a dearn and painful 
perch." Steevens and Wb. define it as "lonely, solitary, melancholy;" 
Schmidt as "dreadful." 

64. All cruets else subscribe. The quartos have "subscrib'd." We 
agree with F. that this is "the most puzzling phrase" in the play. The 
interpretations and emendations that have been proposed seem to us 
mere " tricks of desperation." If we follow the folio, we may as well put 
the words into the address to the porter, as F. does ; but we cannot 
quite accept either of his paraphrases (" acknowledge the claims of all 
creatures, however cruel they may be at other times," or "give up all 
cruel things else — that is, forget that they are cruel "), though the second 

* See our ed. of 1 Hen. IV. p. 181. We adopted Hanmer's emendation with some 
hesitancy, and are more doubtful about it now. The old text might well enough be fol- 
lowed there as here. 



232 NOTES. 

may possibly be right. " As in i. 2. 24, Lear subscribed his powers, so 
here the porter should subscribe all cruels, that is, he should surrender, 
yield, give up whatsoever was cruel in the poor beasts, and see only their 
claim to his compassion." Coll., D., and Sr. adopt Johnson's interpreta- 
tion of "subscribed :" "yielded, submitted to the necessity of the occa- 
sion." K., St., and W. offer no explanation or comment. Clarke and 
Wr. make cruels — cruelties, referring to Gr. 5 (cf. Gr. 433) ; but Schmidt 
insists that cruels can mean nothing but "cruel creatures." In the ex- 
amples given in Gr. 5, the adjective is singular. Schmidt's interpretation 
is as follows : " Everything, which is at other times cruel, shows feeling 
or regard; you alone have not done so." Mr. J. Crosby explains the 
passage thus : "All thy feelings, no matter how cruel or inhuman 'else,' 
that is, at any other time, or under any other circumstances, having 'sub- 
scribed,' that is, succumbed, to the terrors of the storm, and yielded to the 
pity for the old king, thy father." M. says : " All harshness otherwise 
natural being forborne or yielded from the necessity of the time ;" and 
Wr. : "all their other cruelties being yielded or forgiven." If cruels can 
mean either cruel feelings or cruel acts, we might possibly accept one of 
these latter explanations, which agree essentially with Johnson's — for of 
course he took cruels in one or the other of these senses ; but there's 
the rub ! — may the word be so understood ? 

For the general meaning of the passage, cf. iv. 7. 36 below. 

66. See V s/talt thou never I Coleridge asks : " What can I say of this 
scene ? — There is my reluctance to think Shakespeare wrong, and yet — ." 
Elsewhere he says : " I will not disguise my conviction that in this one 
point the tragic in this play has been urged beyond the outermost mark 
and ne plus ultra of the dramatic." 

75. A beard, etc. Wr. compares Ham. iv. 7. 32. 

76. What do you mean ? F. asks : " Should not this be given to Corn- 
wall ?" 

77. Villain. In its literal sense of serf. M. remarks : "As a villain 
could hold no property but by his master's sufferance, had no legal rights 
as against his lord, and was (perhaps) incapable of bearing witness against 
freemen, that one should raise his sword against his master would be un- 
heard-of presumption, for which any punishment would be admissible. 
The lord's making war against his superior lord would entail no such con- 
sequences." 

86. Quit. Requite. See Rich. II. p. 208, or Ham. p. 269. Treacherous 
is omitted in the quartos. 

88. Overture. Opening, disclosure. Cf. W. T. ii. 1. 172: "without 
more overture" (Schmidt). 

90. O. Monosyllabic exclamations sometimes take the place of a foot 
in the verse (Gr. 482). Cf. iv. 2. 26 below. 

92. At gates. F. prints "at' gates." See on 16 above. 

97. Untimely. Adverbial ; as in Ham. iv. 1. 40: "untimely done," etc. 

98-106. / 7/ never . . . help him! Omitted in the folios. 

100. Old course of death. Ordinary course of death, a natural death. 
Wordsworth {Shakespeare" 1 s Knozvledge and Use of the Bible) compares 
Numb. xvi. 29. 



ACT IV. SCENE I. 2 ^ 

102. Bedlam. Lunatic ; as in K. John, ii. i. 83 : " Bedlam, have done." 
See our ed. p. 143. Eccles doubts if this refers to Edgar, who had as- 
sumed his disguise only the evening before ; but S. probably had him in 
mind. 

104. Allows itself to. Allows itself to be turned to, or employed in. 

105. Flax and whites of eggs. A common remedy in that day. Stee- 
vens thought that this passage was parodied by Jonson in The Case is 
Altered, ii. 4; but that plav was written in 1599, though not published 
until 1609. 



ACT IV. 

Scene I. — 3. Dejected thing of fortune. Thing cast down by fortune. 
Cf. Gr. 419(2. The early eds. join To be worst to flatter 'd, and Tyrwhitt 
wished to read " flatter'd to be worse." 

4. Esperance. Hope; as in T and C. v. 2. 121 : "An esperance so 
obstinately strong." See also 1 Hen. IV. p. 161. 

6-9. Welcome . . . But. Omitted in the quartos. 

7. Unsubstantial. Cf. R. and J. v. 3. 103. Insubstantial occurs in 
Temp. iv. i. 155. See on ii. 4. 159 above. 

9. Owes nothing to thy blasts. "Need not care for them" (M.); or, 
has nothing to thank them for. 

12. life would not yield to age. "We so hate life thaf we gladly find 
ourselves lapsing into old age, and approaching death, which will deliver 
us from it" (M.). 

20. Our means secure us. "The advantages we enjoy make us secure 
or careless" (Schmidt). For secure, cf. T. of A. ii. 2. 185 : 

" Canst thou the conscience lack 
To think I shall lack friends ? Secure thy heart ;" 

and Oth. i. 3. 10 : "I do not so secure me in the error," etc. See Oth. p. 
161. Wr. explains the passage thus : "Things we think meanly of, our 
mean or moderate condition, are our security;" and he adds that he 
knows of no instance of the verb secure=to render careless. We know 
of no instance of means^mean things, or "moderate condition." Halli- 
well thinks that means — u want of means, the low state of our means." 
K. says : " The means, such as we possess, are our securities, and, fur- 
ther, our mere defects prove advantages." Hanmer reads " Meanness 
secures us ;" Johnson conjectures " Our means seduce us " or " Our mai?ns 
secure us," and H. adopts the latter. For sundry other emendations and 
interpretations, see F. The old text is probably right, and the choice of 
explanations lies between Schmidt's and Knight's. 

21. Commodities. Advantages. See 2 Hen. IV. p. 157. 

22. Abused. Deceived, deluded. See Ham. p. 215. 

37. Kill. The quartos have "bit" or " bitt." Wordsworth {Shake- 
speare 's Knowl. of Bible) says: "I very much doubt whether S. would 
have allowed any but a heathen character to utter this sentiment." 



234 



NOTES. 



39. Angering itself and others. " He at the same time displeases him- 
self and the person he endeavours to amuse" (Heath).* 

46. Times'. The plural, not the singular (D.). Cf. M. for M. iii. 2. 
288 : " Making practice on the times ;" M. of V. ii. 9. 48 : " the chaff and 
ruin of the times," etc. But the singular is similarly used ; as in T. G. 
of V. iii. 1. 86, Macb. v. 8. 24, Ham. iii. 2. 27, etc. 

When madmen lead the blind. " When enthusiasts madden the igno- 
rant" (M.) 

49. ' 'Pavel. The early eds. have " parrell " or " Parrel ;" but the old 
form " paraille " was obsolete in the time of S. See Gr. 460 for a list of 
words in which the prefix is dropped ; but it contains some (like fall, get, 
haviour, plain, scape, etc.) that do not belong there. 

52. Daub it. Disguise ; as in Rich. III. iii. 5. 29 : " So smooth he 
daub'd his vice with show of virtue." The quartos have " dance it." 
For it, see Gr. 226. 

57-61. Five fiends . . . master I Omitted in the folios. 

60. Flibbertigibbet. The quartos have " Stiberdigebit," which F. retains; 
but the word is doubtless a misprint. Cf. iii. 4. 107 above, where the 1st 
quarto has " fliberdegibek," and the 2d " Sirberdegibit." 

Mopping and mowing. Making faces or grimaces. The two words 
have the same meaning, and are often thus conjoined. Cf. Temp.'w. 1.47: 

" Each one, tripping on his toe, 
Will be here with mop and mow ;" 

and B. and F., Pilgrim, iv. 2 : 

" What mops and mows it makes! heigh, how it frisketh! 
Is 't not a fairy? or some small hob-goblin?" 

We have mow alone in Temp. ii. 2. 9 : " Sometime like apes, that mow 
and chatter at me." Malone quotes Harsnet : "make antike faces, 
grinne, mow and mop like an ape." 

61. Chambermaids. An allusion to Harsnet's account of the three 
chambermaids in the family of Mr. Edmund Peckham. Perhaps, as M. 
thinks, there may be a general reference to chambermaids " who perform 
these antics before their mistress's dressing-glass." 

65. Makes thee the happier. "That is, because my wretchedness now 
teaches me to compassionate those who are in distress " (Wordsworth). 
Cf. Dido's "Non ignara mali miseris succurrere disco." 

66. Superfluous. Having more than enough. Cf. A. W. i. I. 116: 
" Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly." See also ii. 4. 260 above. 

67. That slaves, etc. " Who, instead of paying the deference and sub- 
mission due to your ordinance, treats it as his slave, by making it subser- 
vient to his views of pleasure or interest" (Heath). Steevens cites Hey- 
wood, Brazen Age: "Could slave him like the Lydian Omphale;" and 
Massinger, A New Way, etc. iv. 3 : "a pleas'd sire, that slaves me to his 
will." Malone adds from Webster's Malcontent, iv. I : " O powerful 



* H. (school ed.) says: " Angering in the sense of grieving ; a common use of an- 
ger in the Poet's time." We can find no authority for such a sense ; though anger is 
of course often accompanied with sorrow. H. cites Mark, iii. 5 in support of his inter- 
pretation ; but there anger translates the Greek < pyTs, which surely does not mean grief. 



ACT IV. SCENE II. 235 

blood ! how dost thou slave their soul !" For slaves the quartos have 
"stands," and the Coll. MS. "braves." 

Ordinance — " the established order of things, law of nature " (Schmidt). 

72. There is a cliff, etc. " It is remarkable that Gloster goes to Dover, 
not, as Regan laughingly says, that he may now do his worst in treason, 
but simply that he may throw himself from the cliff in utter despair. The 
fact is, that this interpolated part of the plot is one of the many instances 
of Shakespeare's homage to Sir Philip Sidney ; to pay which he does not 
hesitate to make a certain sacrifice of probability. In the Arcadia (p. 
160) we have ' a prince of Paphlagonia, who, being ill-treated by his son, 
goes to the top of a high rock to cast himself down.' (But how slight is 
the hint in the romance compared with the magnificent use which Shake- 
speare makes of it !) So in Per. i. I, we have taken from Sidney's Arca- 
dia (p. 149) the expression, ' The Senate-house of planets all did sit, To 
knit in her their best perfections.' And in A. Y. L. the celebrated pas- 
sage about ' tongues in trees,' etc., is an adaptation from Sidney's Astro- 
pher (M.). 

73. In. Into. Malone remarks : " S. considered the sea as a mirrour. 
To look in a glass is yet our colloquial phraseology." (Cf. Gr. 159.) 

The cliff "now known as Shakespeare 's Cliff is just outside of the town 
of Dover, to the southwest. It has been somewhat diminished in height 
by frequent landslips, but is still about 350 feet high. The surge still 
chafes against the pebbles, and the samphire-gatherer is still let down in 
a basket to pursue his perilous trade ; but the cliff is not so perpendicu- 
lar, nor do objects below seem so small as one would infer from the 
poet's description. Probably he did not mean to give a picture of this 
particular cliff, but delineated one "in his mind's eye," and more or less 
ideal. The South Eastern Railway now runs through the Dover cliff in 
a tunnel 133 1 yards long. 

Scene II. — 1. Welcome. She welcomes him to her house after reach- 
ing it in his company (Delius). 

Our mild husband. " It must be remembered that Albany disliked, at 
the end of the 1st act, the scheme of oppression and ingratitude " (John- 
son). 
-2. Not. For the transposition, see on ii. 1. 75 above, and cf. 53 below. 

B. Sot. "Dolt, blockhead" (Schmidt). See Temp. p. 132. 

n. What like, offensive. For ellipses in antithetical sentences, see Gr. 
395. Cf. iv. 6. 261 and iv. 7. 4 below. 

12. Cowish. Cowardly ; used by S. only here. 

14. Answer. That is, a manly answer to a challenge ; as in Ham. v. 2. 
176 (see our ed. p. 272) and T. and C. i. 3. 332. 

Oicr wishes, etc. The wishes we have expressed on the road hither 
may be realized. 

16. Powers. Forces. See on iii. 1. 30 above. 

17. Arms. The quarto reading; the folios have "names." 

22. Decline your head. Either that she may put a chain round his neck 
(Delius), or to receive the kiss. 
24. Conceive. Understand ; as in Temp. iv. I. 50, etc. 



236 



NOTES. 



26. O. See on iii. 7. 90 above. 

28. My fool usurps my body. The folio reading. The 1st quarto has 
" A foole vsurpes my bed," and the 2d " My foote vsurpes my head." 

29. I have been worth the whistle. " There was a time when you would 
not have waited so long without coming to meet me " (M.). The 1st 
quarto has ".whistling." Steevens quotes Heywood's Proverbs: "A 
poore dogge that is not woorth the whystlyng." 

31-50. I fear . . . the deep. Omitted in the folios. 

Fear—-it2cc for ; as in v. 1. 16 below. See also Ham. p. 188. Gr. 200. 

32. That nature, etc. " That nature which is arrived to such a pitch of 
unnatural degeneracy as to contemn its origin cannot from thenceforth be 
restrained within any certain bounds whatever, but is prepared to break 
out into the most monstrous excesses every way, as occasion or tempta- 
tion may offer" (Heath). Clarke makes cannot be bordered certain in it- 
self — " cannot comprise reliable component substance in itself." 

For it possessive, cf. i. 4. 206 above. Gr. 228. 

34. Sliver. See Macb. p. 229. Disbranch is used by S. only here. 

35. Material. A good word enough ( = furnishing matter, nourishing), 
but changed by Theo. to "maternal," which is not found in S. Schmidt 
remarks : " From Shakespeare's use of ?naterial elsewhere, in the sense 
of full of matter, and hence of importance, it is not easy to explain it 
here." But here it is = "full of matter," in a sense in which S. often 
uses matter (=substance, materials). 

Perforce. Of necessity ; used only with must in this sense. Cf. 49 be- 
low. It is often = by force; as in i. 4. 289 and i. 5. 36 above. 

36. Deadly use. Warb. refers this to the use made of withered branches 
by witches in their charms ; but the meaning may be simply "to the use 
which belongs to a dead thing, that is, burning," as M. explains it. Some 
see an allusion to John, xv. 6. 

39. Filths. Wr. compares T. of A. iv. 1.6: "To general filths," etc. 
Savour =have a taste or relish for. 

42. Head-lugg 'd. Led by the head. Cf. 1 Hen. IV. i. 2. 82 : "a lugged 
bear." Wr. quotes Harsnet, p. 107 : "As men leade Beares by the nose, 
or Jack an Apes in a string." 

43. Madded. Cf. Rich. II. v. 5. 61 : " This music mads me," etc. S. 
does not use madden. 

47. Tame. "A suspicious word on account of its weakness. After 
visible spirits we should expect rather to doom or to damn. Perhaps S. 
wrote to take the vile offenders " (Schmidt). 

50. Milk-liver 'd. See on ii. 2. 15 above. 

53-59. That not . . . why does he so ? Omitted in the folios. 

54. Fools do those villains, etc. We are inclined to agree with F. that 
this probably refers to Albany himself, not to Gloster or Lear as others 
explain it. " She cannot refer to Gloster, because Albany is ignorant of 
what had been done to him, and she herself had left Gloster's castle be- 
fore the blinding was accomplished ; and it is difficult to believe that she 
refers to Lear." 

55. Where \r thy drum ? That is, why are you not rallying your forces? 

56. Noiseless. "With no sound of preparation for war" (Wr.). 



ACT IV. SCENE II. 



237 



57. Thy state begins to threat. The 1st quarto has " thy state begins 
thei'eat ;■" and the 2d, " thy slaier begins threats." The emendation in 
the text is due to Jennens ; not to Eccles, as stated by the Camb. editors 
and H. 

58. Moral. Moralizing. See Much Ado, p. 162. 

60. Proper deformity. " Deformity conformable to the character " 
(Schmidt) ; as in 2 Hen. IV. iv. 1. 37 : 



"if damn'd commotion so appear'd 
In his true native and most proper shape. 



Delius makes it = " deformity which conceals itself under a pleasing, fair 
outside ;" but, as Wr. says, this would call for some such word as specious 
instead of horrid in the next line. 

62-69. Thou changed . . . nezvs ? Omitted in the folios. 

62. Self -cover'' d. If this be what S. wrote, it seems to us that it must 
mean "whose genuine self is covered or concealed." The only question 
is whether she " has hid the woman under the fiend," as Johnson, Malone, 
Clarke, and Wr. understand it, or the fiend under the woman, as Delius 
and F. make it. Either can be made to suit the context ; but we prefer 
the former. The meaning then is : Thou perverted creature, who hast 
lost thy proper self (either thy womanly self, or thy self as it has seemed 
to me, the ideal of my affection) and hast become a fiend, do not thus 
make a monster of thyself. Were it becoming in me to yield to the an- 
gry impulse, I could tear thee limb from limb; but fiend though thou art, 
thy woman's shape doth shield thee. F. has well put the other inter- 
pretation, which differs from this only in part : " Is it over-refinement to 
suppose that this revelation to Albany of his wife's fiendlike character 
transforms, in his eyes, even her person? She is changed, her true self 
has been covered ; now 1 that she stands revealed, her whole outward 
shape is be-monstered. No woman, least of all Goneril, could remain 
unmoved under such scathing words from her husband. Gondii's ' feat- 
ure ' is quivering and her face distorted with passion. Then it is that 
Albany tells her not to let her evil self, hitherto covered and concealed, 
betray itself in all its hideousness in her outward shape." 

Of the emendations that have been proposed, the most noteworthy are 
" false-cover'd " (Sr.), " self-govem'd " (Coll.), "self-colour'd" (M.), and 
"sex-cover'd" (Mr. J. Crosby). This last (adopted by H. in his school 
ed.) is ably defended by Mr. Crosby in the literary World (Boston, Nov. 
22, 1879) ; but while a tolerably satisfactory meaning can be found in the 
old text, we do not feel justified in adopting a new one. Mr. Crosby 
makes changed— bewitched, as in M. N. D. iii. I. 117, and finds in feature 
the sense of sex or womanhood, or that which distinguished Goneril's 
making {feature is from the Latin facere) from that of a man. The 
meaning then is : " Thou bedevilled creature, covered as thou art with 
all the lineaments of a woman, and yet guilty of such monstrous, un- 
womanly cruelty, for shame ! make not a monster of thy sex, change not 
thy woman's form into a devil !" 

Fory^a^/r^^bodily shape in general, figure, form, cf. Ham. iii. 1. 167, 
and see our ed. p. 220. 



2 3 8 



NOTES. 



64, Blood. " Passion, anger " (Schmidt). Cf. L. L. L. i. 2. 32 : " thou 
heatest my blood," etc. 

68. Now. The quartos have "mew," which Wr. adopts, making it 
= keep in, restrain. Cf. M. N. D. p. 126. M. paraphrases thus: " A nice 
notion you have of manhood !" 

73. Remorse. Pity, compassion. See Macb. p. 171. 

74. Opposed. Schmidt, in his Lexicon, puts this under opposed "used 
adjectively ;" but it seems to be the past tense, and = made opposition, 
opposed himself. For oppose against, cf. W. T.v. I. 46 : 

'"T is your counsel 
My lord should to the heavens be contrary, 
Oppose against their wills." 

It is often used reflexively ; as in T. G. of V. iii. 2. 26, K. John, hi. I. 170, 
Rich. II. iii. 3. 18, etc. 

75. To. In the direction of, against. 

78. Pluck 1 d. A favourite word with S. See Rich. III. p. 199. It oc- 
curs six times in the present play. 

79. Justicers. See on iii. 6. 21 above. Here the 1st quarto has 
" lustisers," the other early eds. " Iustices." Nether — committed on 
earth (opposed to above). 

80. Venge. Not to be printed " 'venge," as in many eds. See Rich. II. 
p. 158. m _ 

83. One way, etc. " Gonenl's plan was to poison her sister, — to marry 
Edmund, — to murder Albany, — and to get possession of the whole king- 
dom. As the death of Cornwall facilitated the last part of her scheme, 
she was pleased at it ; but disliked it, as it put it in the power of her sister 
to marry Edmund " (Mason). 

85. The building in my fancy. Steevens quotes Cor. ii. I. 216 : 

"my very wishes 
And the buildings of my fancy." 

86. Another way. Really the same as the One way in 83, the other 
way — the one she did not like — being introduced by the But. 

90. Back again. That is, going back again. 

Scene III. — This scene is omitted in the folios. See p. 11 above. 

Enter . . . a Gentleman. " The same whom he had sent with letters 
to Cordelia " (Johnson). 

7. Who. Changed by some editors to " Whom." Cf. v. 3. 248 below, 
and see Gr. 274. 

12. TrilPd. Trickled. Walker cites B. J., Every Man Out of His 
Humour, iii. 2 : " how he wept, if you mark'd it ! did you see how the 
tears trill'd ?" and Browne, Brit. Pastorals, ii. 4 : " And chilly drops trill 
o'er his staring eyes." 

14. Who. See on i. 1. 105 above, and cf. 17 below. Gr. 264. 

18. Sunshine and rain. M. remarks: "It is the triumph of a poet 
thus to make two feelings work at once in one mind. Thus Homer 
makes the women's tears for Patroclus turn to tears for their own bond- 
age (UarpoKXov Trpotpacnv <70ah' 6' avrujv Kt]de eKaari]) ; the dying Dido 
in Virgil struggles for the light, but hates it when found (quaesivit caelo 



ACT IV. SCENE III. 



2 39 



lucem ingemuitque reperta). But no poet ever ventures, as S. does here, 
to imagine a grief, the most powerful of which human nature is capable, 
thus controlled by the tranquil graciousness of a calm nature, which can- 
not do otherwise than hold its own amid all disturbance, and is incapable 
of losing its balance ; the inward perfection thus giving lovely mildness 
to the accidental and temporary emotion which still remains entire and 
undestroyed." 

19. A better way. A much disputed passage. Clarke says : " It means 
that her mingled ' smiles and tears ' expressed her feelings in ' a better 
way' than either ' patience or sorrow' could do separately; each of which 
'strove who should express her goodliest.' The words 'her smiles and 
tears were like a better way,' moreover, include comparison with the 
opening phrase of the speech, 'Not to a rage;' showing that her emotion 
vented itself in nothing like rage, but ('a better way') in gentle 'smiles 
and tears,' compounded of both ' patience and sorrow.' " Schmidt points 
"like, a better way," and explains thus : " resembled sunshine and rain, 
but in a more beautiful manner." H. points " like : a better way, — 
those," etc. = " to speak it in a better way, to express it in a better form 
of words, those," etc. Warb. proposed "a wetter May;" Toilet (followed 
by Malone, Coll., and W.) "a better May;" Theo. (so Steevens, K., D., 
and St.) "a better day." Other emendations are "a chequer'd day," "a 
bitter May," etc. 

Smilets is "a purely Shakespearian diminutive" (Wr.). 

22. As pearls, etc. Steevens takes the poetry out of the passage by the 
following note, which might have been written by a jeweller's appren- 
tice : " This idea might have been taken from the ornaments of the an- 
cient carcanet or necklace, which frequently consisted of table diamonds 
with pearls appended to them, or, in the jeweller's phrase, dropping from 
them. Pendants for the ear are still called drops." 

29. Let pity not be believed! That is, believed to exist. Capell changed 
pity to "it." 

31. A nd, clamour-moisted d, etc. The quartos read "And clamour mois- 
tened her." Capell gave "And clamour moisten'd"=allayed with tears 
her grief ready to burst out into clamour, as winds are allayed by rain. 
Moberly explains it, " Shed tears upon her cry of sorrow ;" and J. H., 
"gave to her outcries a weeping or tearful tone." Walker makes clamour- 
moisten 'd ( = luctu madentes) refer to eyes; or, as F. puts it, "her eyes 
that were heavenly and wet with wailing." F. prefers this explanation, 
but believes the passage to be corrupt — as it probably is. For the con- 
struction he compares Hen. V. ii. 2. 139 : " the full-fraught man and best 
endued." The reading in the text is that of W., which H. also adopts, 
though not altogether satisfied with it. Theo. and Warb. read "And, 
clamour-motion'd, then," etc. Johnson says: "The sense_ is good of 
the old reading, ' Clamour moisten'd her,' that is, her outcries were ac- 
companied with tears." 

32. It is the stars, etc. Cf. i. 2. 94 fol. above. 

33. Conditions. "Temper, character, habit" (Schmidt). Cf.i. 1.289 above. 

34. Self mate and mate. " The same husband and wife " (Johnson). 
For self cf. i. 1. 62 above. 



240 



NOTES. 



35. Spoke not. Have not spoken. Cf. Hen. V. iv. 7. 58 : "I was not 
angry since I came to France," etc. Gr. 347. 

42. Elbows. "Stands at his elbow and reminds him of the past" 
(Wr.) ; "seems to buffet him" (M.) ; perhaps = pushes him aside 
(Schmidt). The word is a puzzling one, and probably one of the corrup- 
tions of this corrupt scene, " perhaps the most corrupt throughout 
Shakespeare's plays " (F.). Pope, Theo., Hanmer, and some others read 
"bows." 

49. ' ' T 'is so, they are afoot. " So it is that they are on foot " (Johnson) ; 
" they are actually on foot " (Malone). 

51. Some dear cause. "Some important business" (Malone). Cf. i. 4. 
26^ above. 



Scene IV. — 3. Fumiter. "Fumitory" (Hanmer's reading). The 
quartos have " femiter," the folios " Fenitar." Cf. Hen. V. v. 2. 45: " The 
darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory." See our ed. p. 184. 

4. Burdocks. The quartos have " hor-docks," and the folios " Har- 
dokes " or " Hardocks." Farmer reads "harlocks," and H, "hoar- 
docks." Burdocks is Hanmer's emendation, adopted by Capell, St., W., 
D., Coll. (3d ed.), and F. The common burdock {Lappa officinalis, Wood) 
grows abundantly by roadsides and in waste places both in England and 
in this country. 

Hemlock is one of the ingredients of the witches' cauldron, in Macb. i. 
4. 25. See also the quotation from Hen. V. just above. 

Nettles are often mentioned by S. ; as in W. T. i. 3. 329, Rich. II. iii. 2. 
18, Hen. V. i. 1. 60, etc. 

Cuckoo-floxvers. Cf. cuckoo-buds in L. L. L. v. 2. 906. According to 
Beisly, the Lychnis fios-cucidi is here meant; but that has "rose-col- 
oured flowers," while the cuckoo-buds in L. L. L. are "of yellow hue." 
Ellacombe thinks that either the cowslip or the buttercup is meant, and 
he is inclined, with Dr. Prior, to decide on the latter. 

The darnel is the Lolium temulentum. Cf. Hen. V. v. 2. 45 and I Hen. 
VI. iii. 2. 44. According to Ellacombe, in the time of S. darnel, like 
cockle, was used as " a general name for any hurtful weed." 

5. Idle. Unprofitable, worthless ; opposed to sustaining. 

6. Century. A company of a hundred men ; as in Cor. i. 7. 3. In the 
only other instance of the word in S. {Cymb. iv. 2. 391 : "a century of 
prayers "), it means simply a hundred. 

8. Can. Cf. Temp. iv. 1. 27 : " Our worser genius can," etc. See also 
Ham. pp. 233, 255. Gr. 307. 

9. The restoring. For the article with the verbal, see Gr. 93. 

10. Helps. Heals, cures ; as in R. ofL. 1822, Temp. ii. 2. 97, T. G. of V. 
iv. 2. 47, etc. 

1 1. Means. For the singular use, cf. M. of V. ii. I. 19, W. T iv. 4. 632, 
865, T. of A. v. i. 230, etc. 

Dr. Kellogg {Shakespeare" 1 s Delin. of Insanity, p. 26) remarks : " The 
reply of the Physician is significant, and worthy of careful attention, as 
embracing a brief summary of almost the only true principles recognized 
by modern science, and now carried out by the most eminent physicians 



ACT IV SCENE V. 



241 



in the treatment of the Insane. We find here no allusion to the scourg- 
ings, the charms, the invocation of saints, etc., employed by the most em- 
inent physicians of the time of S. ; neither have we any allusion to the 
rotary chairs, the vomitings, the purgings by hellebore, the showerings, 
the bleedings, scalp-shavings, and blisterings, which, even down to our 
own times, have been inflicted upon these unfortunates by ' science false- 
ly so called,' and which stand recorded as imperishable monuments of 
medical folly ; but in place of all this, S., speaking through the mouth of 
the Physician, gives us the principle, simple, truthful, and universally ap- 
plicable." 

14. Simples. Medicinal herbs. See A. Y. L. p. 185, or R. and J. p. 21 1. 

15. Anguish. "Generally used in S. of physical pain" (Wr.). Cf. iv. 
6. 6 below. 

17. Aidant and remediate. Helpful and healing. S. uses neither ad- 
jective elsewhere ; but we find aidance in V. and A. 330 and 2 Hen. VI. 
iv. 4. 17. 

19. Ungoverrid. "Unbridled" (Schmidt). It is not necessary to make 
it = " ungovernable," as Delius does. 

26. Important. Importunate. See Much Ado, p, 129. The folios have 
"importun'd," which Rowe and Schmidt retain. 

27. Blown. Inflated. Wr. quotes Cymb. iii. 1. 49. 

. 28. Aged. Abbott (Gr. 497) makes the word here a monosyllable, but 
we are not sure that this is necessary. He seems to think that the only 
alternative is to make our a dissyllable; but why not scan thus: "But 
love, I dear love, | and our a- | ged fa- | ther's right ?" 

Scene V. — 4. Lord. The quartos have " Lady ;" an error which may 
have arisen from the use of "L." as an abbreviation for either word 
(Malonej. 

13. Nighted. The word occurs again in Ham. i. 2. 68: "thy nighted 
colour." 

20. By word. By word of mouth, orally. Belike=\t is likely, it may 
be. See Ham. p. 225. 

22. Madam, I had rather — . Johnson says : " I know not well why S. 
gives to Oswald, who is a mere factor of wickedness, so much fidelity. 
He now refuses the letter ; and afterwards, when he is dying, thinks only 
how it may be safely delivered." V. remarks : " S. has here incidentally 
painted, without the formality of a regular moral lesson, one of the very 
strange and very common self-contradictions of our enigmatical nature. 
Zealous, honourable, even self-sacrificing fidelity, — sometimes to a chief 
or leader, sometimes to a party, a faction, or a gang, — appears to be so 
little dependent on any principle of virtuous duty, that it is often found 
strongest among those who have thrown off the common restraints of 
morality. It would seem that when man's obligations to his God or his 
kind are rejected or forgotten, the most abandoned mind still craves 
something for the exercise of its natural social sympathies, and as it loses 
sight of nobler and truer duties becomes, like the Steward, more and 
more ' duteous to the vices ' of its self-chosen masters. This is one of 
the moral phenomena of artificial society, so much within the range of 

Q 



242 NOTES. 

Johnson's observation, as an acute observer of life, that it is strange that 
lie should not have recognized its truth in Oswald's character." 

25. CEillades. Amorous glances. The word is spelled " aliads " in 
the quartos, and " Eliads " or " Iliads " in the folios. Cf. M.W.i. 3. 68 : 
" Page's wife, who even now gave me good eyes too, examined my parts 
with most judicious oeillades." Wr. quotes Cotgrave : "Oeillade: An 
amorous looke, affectionate winke, wanton aspect, lustfull iert, or passion- 
ate cast, of the eye ; a Sheepes eye." 

26. Of her bosom. In her confidence. Cf. J. C.v. I. 7 : "I am in their 
bosoms." See also 1 Hen. IV. p. 155, note on Into the bosom creep. 

28. Yon are ; I know V. The folio reading ; the quartos have "for I 
know 't." 

29. Note. " Not a letter, but a remark " (Johnson). Delius thinks that 
a letter is referred to, both here and in 33 below. Capell takes this in 
33 to be a ring ; W. "this information, but possibly, some token." Grey 
says it could not have been a letter, because when Oswald was afterwards 
killed by Edgar, and his pockets rifled, only one letter was found, and 
that was Goneril's. See iv. 6. 241 below. 

35. Desire her call, etc. " In plain English, ' Tell her to help herself, 
if she can, and be hanged" (H.). 
40. Party. The quartos have " lady." 

Scene VI. — The materials of this scene are taken from Sidney's Ar- 
cadia. See p. 159 above. 

2. Climb np it. The quartos have " climb it up." Wr. compares 
North's Phitarch : " When they came to the hills, they sought forcibly to 
clime them vp." See also Isa. xv. 5. 

3. Horrible. The Coll. MS. has "horribly." Cf. T. N. iii. 4. 196: 
" swear horrible ;" 1 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 402 : " horrible afeard," etc. Gr. 1. 

13. Choughs. The Corvns monedula (Schmidt). Cf. M. N. D. p. 161. 

14. Gross. Big, large. Cf. the quibble in 1 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 250 : " These 
lies are like their father that begets them ; gross as a mountain, open, 
palpable." 

15. Sampire. The spelling of the early eds. and more in keeping with 
its derivation (from the Fr. " l'herbe de Saint-Pierre ") than the modern 
samphire. Gerarde (quoted by Wr.) gives as one of its Italian names, 
" Herba di San Pietro." He says {Herball, p. 428), " Rocke Sampier 
groweth on the rocky cliffes at Douer." Cotgrave has " Herbe de S. 
Pierre. Sampire, Crestmarin." Malone says : " This personage is not 
a mere creature of Shakespeare's imagination, for the gathering of sam- 
phire was literally a trade or common occupation in his time, it being 
carried and cried about the streets, and much used as a pickle. So, in a 
song in Heywood's Rape of Lucrece, in which the cries of London are 
enumerated under the title of the cries of Rome : ' I ha Rock-sampier, 
Rock-sampier ; Thus go the cries in Rome faire towne,' etc. Again, in 
Venner's Via Recta, etc., 1622 : ' Samphire is in like manner preserved in 
pickle, and eaten with meates. It is a very pleasant and familiar sauce, 
and agreeing with man's body.' Dover Cliff was particularly resorted to 
for this plant." Cf. Drayton, Polyolbion, xviii. : 



ACT IV SCENE VI. 



243 



" Rob Dovei-'s neighbouring cleeves of samphire, to excite 
His dull and sickly taste, and stir up appetite." 

Evelyn, in his Acetaria, has a receipt for pickling sampier, called the Do- 
ver receipt. 




SAMPHIRE. 



18. Yond. Not to be printed "yond'," as it often is. See Temp. p. 
121, and J. C. p. 134. 

19. Cock. Cockboat. Wr. quotes the description of the shipwreck of 
Sir Humphrey Gilbert's fleet in Hakluyt's Voyages: "neither could we 
espie any of the men that leaped ouerboord to saue themselves, either in 
the same Pinnesse or Cocke, or vpon rafters," etc. 

21. Unmimber 'd. Innumerable ; as in y C. hi. 1. 63 : " The skies are 
painted with unnumber'd sparks." Cf. untented in i. 4. 291 above. Gr. 
375. For idle, cf. iv. 4. 5 above. 

Pebble chafes. The reading of the folios, and (" peeble chaffes ") of the 
1st quarto. The 2d quarto has " peebles chafe." Most modern editors 
adopt Pope's harsh "pebbles chafes." 

23. Deficient. Defective, failing ; used by S. only here and in Oth. i. 3. 
63 : " Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense." 

27. Upright. Warb. thought we should read "outright" ( = forward) ; 
but Heath reminds him that within afoot of the verge it would be dan- 
gerous to leap even upwards. 

33. Why I do trifle, etc. Abbott (Gr. 411) quotes this as an instance 



244 



NOTES. 



3§- 
39- 



of the confusion of two constructions, "Why I trifle is to cure," and "My 
trifling is done to cure." 

35. Sights. For the plural, see Rich. II. p. 206. 

Opposeless. Not to be opposed. See Gr. 446. 

My snuff, etc. Cf. A. W. i. 2. 59 : 

"'Let me not live,' quoth he, 
'After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff 
Of younger spirits ' " 

(that is, to be called a snuff by them). 

42. Conceit. Imagination. See Ham. pp. 238, 248. 

47. Pass. Pass away, die ; as in v. 3. 313 below. Cf. 2 Hen. VI. iii. 3. 
25 : " let him pass peaceably." 

49. Gossamer. Spelt "gosmore" in the quartos, and " Gozemore " in 
the folios. See R. and J. p. 178. 

50. Fathom. S. uses both fathom and fathoms in the plural. Cf. A. Y. L. 
iv. 1. 210: "how many fathom deep;" T. and C. i. 1. 50: "how many 
fathoms deep," etc. 

53. At each. " Each joined to another " (Schmidt). " At least," " at- 
tacht," " at length," " at eke," " a-stretch," " at reach," etc., have been 
conjectured. Sr. reads "at eche " (from A. S. eacan, to add). 

54. Fell also occurs as the participle in T. A. ii. 4. 50 and T. of A. iv. 3. 
Cf. Gr. 344. 

Bourn. Boundary. See Ham. p. 218. 

A-height. To the height, aloft. We find "a-high" in Rich. III. 
86. Shrill-gorged = shrill-throated. For gorge = throat, stomach, 

see Ham. p. 263. 

71. Whelk' d. Protruding, like whelks. Cf. Hen. V. iii. 6. 108 : " His 
face is all bubukles, and whelks, and knobs," etc. 

Enridged. The quarto reading; the folios have "enraged." 
and A. 820 : " Whose ridges with the meeting clouds contend ;" 
of L. 1439: "with swelling ridges." 

73. Clearest. This has been variously defined as " open and righteous," 
"purest," and "clear-sighted." As Schmidt remarks, it seems to com- 
bine the ideas of "bright, pure, and glorious." In Lycidas, 70, "clear 
spirit" is = " noble mind" in 71. 

74. Men's impossibilities. What men call impossibilities. Capell cites 
Luke, xviii. 27. 

77. That thing . . . I look it. Cf. ii. 4. 207 above. Gr. 417. 

80. Free. Sound. Cf. M.for M. i. 2. 44: " whether thou art tainted 
or free," etc. 

81. Safer. " Sounder, more sober" (Wr.). Warb. conjectured "sober" 
and Johnson "saner." Cf. M.for M. i. 1. 72 : "safe discretion;" Cor. ii. 
3. 226 : " safer judgment," etc. Wr. cites Oth. ii. 3. 205. 

86. There 's your press - money, etc. As Capell notes, Lear's mad 
thoughts are running upon war and warlike exercises, the enlisting of 
soldiers, the training of bowmen, etc. 

Press-money was the money given to a soldier when he was pressed 
into service. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. iii. 2. 296, where Wart receives "a tester." 

87. A crow-keeper. One who keeps off crows from a field. Cf. R. and 



265. 

57- 
. 58. 
iv. 4. 



Cf. V. 
and R. 



ACT IV. SCENE VI. 



245 



y. i. 4. 6 : " Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper ;" and see our ed. p. 153. 
Ascham, in his Toxophilus, speaking of awkward shooters, says : " An 
other coureth downe, and layeth out his buttockes, as though he shoulde 
shoote at crowes " (Douce). 

88. A clothier 's yard. Steevens compares the old ballad of Chevy- 
Chace : "An arrow of a cloth-yard long." 

90. Brown bills. Halberds used by foot-soldiers. Cf. 2 Hen. VI. iv. 
10. 13 : " For many a time, but for a sallet, my brain-pan had been cleft 
with a brown bill." "They were browned, like the old brown Bess, to 
keep them from rust" (Wr.). 

91. Well flown, bird ! The phrase is taken from falconry, but Lear uses 
it figuratively of the arrow. The clout was the white mark in the centre 
of the target. See 2 Hen. IV. p. 176, note on Clapped ? the clout. 

92. The word. The watchword ; as in Rich. III. v. 3. 349 and many 
other passages. 

93. Marjoram. See W. T. p. 190. 

97. And told me, etc. Told me that I had the wisdom of age before I 
had attained to that of youth (Capell). 

99. Ay and no too, etc. Clarke says: "Lear first exclaims indignant- 
ly : ' To say " ay " and " no " to everything I said !' recollecting the facility 
with which his courtiers veered about in their answers to suit his varying 
moods, just as Osric does to Hamlet ; and then he goes on to say that 
this kind of ' ay ' and ' no ' too is no good divinity. In proof that ' ay ' and 
' no ' was used by S. with some degree of latitude, as a phrase signifying 
alternate reply, and not merely in strictness ' yes and no,' compare A. Y.L. 
iii. 2. 231-240, where, if the questions Rosalind asks be examined, it will 
be perceived that neither 'ay' nor 'no' will do as answers to any of 
them, except to 'Did he ask for me?'" W. reads "everything that I 
said ay and no to," etc. 

101. Peace. Hold its peace. Cf. Oth. v. 2. 219 : 

" 1 r ago. Come, hold your peace. 

" Emilia. 'Twill out, 'twill out! I peace!" 

105. Trick. Peculiarity. Cf. K. John, i. 1. 85 : " He hath a trick of 
Coeur-de-Lion's face ;" 1 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 446 : " a villanous trick of thine 
eye," etc. 

107. Subject. Probably collective; as in M.forM. iii. 2. 145 : "The 
greater file of the subject held the duke to be wise." See also W. T. p. 
148, or Ham. p. 173. 

113. Civet. Cf. iii. 4. 98 above. 

117. Piece. Nearly— masterpiece, or model (Schmidt). Cf. Temp. i. 
2. 56 (also Per. iv. 6. 118): "a piece of virtue ;" W. T. iv. 4. 32 : "a piece 
of beauty ;" Per. iv. 2. 151 : " When nature framed this piece," etc. 

This great world. The macrocosm, as opposed to the microcosm, or 
"little world of man " (iii. 1. 10), implied in what precedes. 

120. Squiny. Squint. Malone quotes Armin, Nest of Ninnies : " The 
World, queasie stomackt, . . . squinies at this, and lookes as one scorn- 
ing." Wr. says the word is still used in Suffolk ; and, as F. adds, in this 
country also. We have heard a New England mother say to a boy, 
" Don't squiny up your eyes." 



246 



NOTES. 



122. Thy letters. The quartos have "the letters." 

123. It is. Emphatic; as in Macb. i. 3. 141 (Wr.). 

126. The case. The empty socket. Cf. W. T. v. 2. 14 : " to tear the 
cases of their eyes." W. follows Rowe in reading "this case" ( — "such 
a pair "). 

127. Are you there with me? Is that what you mean? See A. Y. L. 
p. 193, note on I know where yon are. F. compares " take me with you " 
in R. and J. iii. 5. 140 (see our ed. p. 196). 

131. Feelingly. "In an inward and heartfelt way. Lear takes it to 
mean ' only by feeling", as I have no eyes ' " (M.). 

135. Handy-dandy. A children's game, in which, by a sort of sleight of 
hand, a. thing is passed quickly from one hand to the other. Douce 
quotes an old MS., A free discourse, etc. : "They . . . play with your 
majestie as men play with little children at handye dandye, which hand 
will you have, when they are disposed to keep any thinge from them." 

143. Through tattered clothes great vices do appear. " When looked at 
through tattered clothes, all vices appear great" (F.). The quartos (fol- 
lowed by most editors) have "smal " or "small " for great. 

144. Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Malone quotes R. of L. 93: 
" Hiding base sin in plaits of majesty." 

The quartos omit 144-149 : Plate sin . . . accuser's lips. 

Plate = " clothe in plate armour " (Clarke). The folio has " Place 
shines ;" corrected by Theo. 

147. Able. Warrant, answer for. Steevens quotes Chapman, Widow 's 
Tears, ii. 1 : " Admitted ? aye, into her heart, I '11 able it." Cf. Middle- 
ton, Game at Chess : " That 's safe, I '11 able it." 

153. Matter. Meaning, sense. Cf. Ham. ii. 2. 95 : " More matter with 
less art ;" Much Ado, ii. 1. 344 : " all mirth and no matter," etc. 

Impertmency —whzt is not pertinent, or to the purpose. Douce says 
that the word was not used in the sense of rude or unmannerly till the 
middle of the 17th century, nor in that of saucy until a considerable time 
afterwards. Cf. impertinent in Temp. i. 2. 138. 

159. Wawl. The quartos have "wayl" or "waile." Wr. cites Cot- 
grave : " Hoiialler. To yawle, wawle, or cry out aloud." 

162. This". This is ; the reading of Sr. (2d ed.), D., Wr., and F. See 
Gr. 461. The early eds. have "this a" or "This a." 

Block — the fashion of a hat, from the block on which it was shaped. 
See Much Ado, p. 120. The editors generally adopt Capell's explanation 
here: that when Lear says he will preach, he takes off his hat, on which 
his eye happens to fall a moment after, starting another train of ideas. 
But, as Coll. remarks, Lear probably had no hat on his head, but only his 
fantastic crown of weeds. F. says that in Edwin Booth's Prompt Book, 
there is the stage-direction, " Lear takes Curan's hat ;" which is certainly 
better than to suppose that he took his own. 

163. A delicate stratagem, etc. Malone says: "This 'delicate strata- 
gem ' had actually been put in practice fifty years before S. was born, as 
we learn from Lord Herbert's Life of Henry the Eighth, p. 41 : ' the ladye 
Margaret, . . . caused there a juste to be held in an extraordinary man- 
ner ; the place being a fore-room raised high from the ground by many 



ACT IV SCENE VI. 247 

steps, and paved with black square stones like marble ; while the horses, 
to prevent sliding, were shod with felt or flocks (the Latin words arefeltro 
sive tomento) : after which the ladies danced all night.' " 

166. Then, kill, kill, etc. Formerly the word given in the English army 
when an onset was made (Malone). Cf. V. and A. 652 : "in a peaceful 
hour doth cry, ' kill, kill.' " 

167. Lay hand. The quartos have " lay hands." 

1 70. The natural fool of fortune. " One born to be the sport of fortune " 
(Walker). Cf. R. and J. iii. I. 129 : " I am fortune's fool." 

171. A surgeon. The 1st quarto has "a churgion," the 2d "a Chirur- 
geon ;" the folios have " surgeons." Surgeon is the word that S. uses 
elsewhere, but we find chirurgeonly in Temp. ii. I. 140. 

172. Cut to tJi 1 drains. Clarke remarks : " This, one of the most pow- 
erfully, yet briefly expressed, utterances of mingled bodily pain and con- 
sciousness of mental infirmity ever penned, is not the only subtle indica- 
tion in this scene that Lear not merely feels himself to be insane, but also 
feels acute physical suffering. ' I am not ague-proof tells how severely 
shaken his poor old frame has been by exposure throughout that tem- 
pestuous night ; ' pull off my boots ; harder, harder,' gives evidence of a 
sensation of pressure and impeded circulation in the feet, so closely con- 
nected with injury to the brain ; and ' I am cut to the brains ' conveys the 
impression of wounded writhing within the head, that' touches us with 
deepest sympathy. Yet, at the same time, there are the gay irrationality 
and the incoherency that mark this stage of mania." 

174. A man of salt. A man of tears. Cf. K. John, v. 7. 45, Ham. i. 2. 
154, and Cor. v. 6. 93. 

176, 177. Ay . . . good sir. Omitted in the folios. 

178. Smitg. Spruce. See 1 Hen. IV. p. 173. The word is not in the 
quartos. 

182. There 's life in V. " The case is not yet desperate " (Johnson). 

183. Sa, sa, sa, sa. "An exclamation inciting to swift running" 
(Schmidt). H. thinks it may be "meant to express Lear's panting as he 
runs." 

188. Speed you. May you speed, or prosper. See W. T. p. 161, note 
on Sped. 

189. Toward. See on ii. 1. 10 above. 

190. Vulgar. Commonly known. See Ham. p. 180. 

191. Which. Who. See on i. 4. 242 above. 

193. The main descry, etc. " The main body is expected to be descried 
every hour" (Johnson) ; "the full view of the main body is hourly ex- 
pected" (Wr.). 

198. My worser spirit. Wr. compares Temp. iv. 1. 27 : " Our worser 
genius." 

201. Tame to. The quartos have " lame by," with which Malone com- 
pares Sonn. 38. 3 : "made lame by fortune's dearest spite." 

202. Feeling. "Heartfelt" (Schmidt) or "touching" (Wr.) ; or per- 
haps, as Clarke suggests, combining both senses. Cf. IV. T. iv. 2. 8 : " To 
whose feeling sorrows I might be some allay." 

203. Pregnant. Disposed, ready. See on ii. 1. 76 above. 



248 



NOTES. 



204. Biding. Abiding-place, abode. Cf. R. of L. 550: "from their 
biding." 
206. To boot, and boot. " Over and above my thanks " (Clarke). 

209. Thyself remember. "Recollect the past offences of thy life and 
recommend thyself to heaven" (Warb.). 

210. Now let, etc. Clearly addressed to Oswald, as F. explains it ; not 
to Edgar, as Clarke supposes. 

215. Chill. I will (in the Somersetshire dialect) contracted from ich 
will, as chud from ich would or ich should. In Grose's Provincial Glos- 
sary, chell is said to be used for I shall in Somerset and Devon, and chain 
for' I am in Somerset. In Whetstone's Promos and Cassandra we find 
cham, chy, chaue, chul (Wr.). 

217. Gait. Way ; now confined to North-country dialects (Wr.). 

220. Che vor ye. I warn you (Johnson). Capell cites The Contention 

between Liberality and Prodigality, 1602 : 

"Yoo by gisse sir tis high time che vore ye 
Cham averd another will ha'te afore me." 

Ise — l shall ; still used in the western part of Somersetshire, and pro- 
nounced ice, as it is spelt in the folios (Wr.). 

221. Costard. Head ; literally a kind of apple. See Rich. III. p. 195. 
Ballow is a North-country word =pole, cudgel. 

222. Out, dunghill! Cf. K. John, iv. 3. 87 : " Out, dunghill ! dar'st thou 
brave a nobleman ?" 

224. Foins. Thrusts in fencing. See Much Ado, p. 153, note on Pain- 
ing. 

227. Letters. Applied to a single letter, as in i. 5. I above. Malone 
says it is used like the Latin epistolae, but he probably meant litterae, as 
epistolae is a quasi-singular only in post-classical writers. 

229. English. The quartos have "British." See on iii. 4. 173 above. 
Party — side ; as in ii. I. 26 above. 

234. Father. Often used as an address to any old man. See Macb. 
ii. 4. 4, etc. ; and cf. M. of V. p. 139. 

237. Deathsman. Executioner; as in R. of L. 1001, 2 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 
217, etc. "Edgar is sorry that he anticipated the hangman" (Schmidt). 

238. Leave, gentle wax. Cf. Cymb. iii. 2. 35 : " Good wax, thy leave." 

239. We rip their hearts. Cf. Cymb. iii. 5. 86 : 

"I '11 have this secret from thy heart, or rip 
Thy heart to find it." 

240. Their papers. For the ellipsis, cf. iv. 2. 11 above. Gr. 337, 395. 
243. Fruitfully. Abundantly, fully ; as in A. W. ii. 2. 73, the only other 

instance of the adverb in S. 

249. O indistinguisK 'd space, etc. " O, unmarked, boundless range of 
woman's will !" (W.). Schmidt makes undistinguished (the 2d quarto 
reading) = " incalculable, unaccountable." For other interpretations, and 
sundry emendations that have been proposed, see F. For space, cf. i. 1. 
49 above. 

252. Rake up. Cover by raking up the earth. Cf. the New England 
phrase, "to rake up a fire," that is, cover it with ashes. See Wb. 



ACT IV. SCENE VII. 249 

Unsandified. Wicked. Steevens thought it referred to his burial " in 
ground unsanctified" {Ham. v. 1. 252). 

253. Mature. Apparently accented here on the penult (Gr. 492). 

255. Death-praciis 'd. Whose death is plotted. Cf. practise -plot, in 
iii. 2. 52 above. 

258. Ingenious. "Conscious" (Schmidt); or, perhaps, "sensitive, 
acute" (Warb. and Sr.). Wr. cites Ham. v. 1. 271 : " thy most ingenious 
sense ;" where it seems to mean " keen intellect." 

259. Distract. Cf. J. C. iv. 3. 155 : " she fell distract." See also T. N. 
p. 167. Gr. 342. 

260. Severed. The quartos have "fenced." 
264. Bestozu. Lodge. See on ii. 4. 284 above. 

Scene VII. — 4. Is overpaid. Is to be overpaid. See on iv. 6. 240 
above. 

5. Modest. Moderate. See on ii. 4. 24 above. 

6. Suited. Dressed. See T. N. p. 166 ; and cf. Milton, 77 Pens. 122 : 
"Till civil-suited Morn appear." 

7. Weeds. Garments. Cf. M. N. D. ii. 2. 71 : " Weeds of Athens he 
doth wear;" and see our ed. p. 149. Memories— xixtWiOxx-As. See A. Y. L. 
p. 155. For zvorser, see Ham. p. 239. 

9. My made intent. The intention or plan I have formed. Warb. con- 
jectured "laid" for made, and the Coll. MS. has "main." 

13. Sleeps. For the ellipsis of the subject, see on ii. 4. 41 above. 

16. The untuii'd, etc. Wr. quotes Ham. iii. 1. 166 : " Like sweet bells 
jangled out of tune, and harsh." The metaphor in wind up is taken 
from a stringed instrument. 

17. Child-changed. Either " changed to a child," as Steevens, Schmidt, 
and Abbott (Gr. 430) explain it ; or " changed by the conduct of his chil- 
dren," as Malone and Halliwell understand it. 

21. Of sleep. F. prints " of ' sleep," assuming that his is probably ab- 
sorbed. 

The quartos give this speech to " DoctP The next is assigned by the 
1st quarto to " Gent.,''' and by the 2d to " Kent." The folio makes one 
speech of the two, and gives it to " Gent." 

24. Temperance. Self-restraint, calmness. See Macb. p. 240. 

Very well. The folios omit these words and the whole of the next 
line. 

25. Music. Dr. Bucknill says : " This seems a bold experiment, and 
one not unfraught with danger. The idea that the insane mind is bene- 
ficially influenced by music is, indeed, an ancient and general one ; but 
that the medicated sleep of insanity should be interrupted by it, and that 
the first object presented to the consciousness should be the very person 
most likely to excite profound emotion, appear to be expedients little 
calculated to promote that tranquillity of the mental functions which is, 
undoubtedly, the safest state to induce, after the excitement of mania. 
A suspicion of this may have crossed Shakespeare's mind, for he repre- 
sents Lear in imminent danger of passing into a new form of delusion." 

26. Restoration hang, etc. Let restoration hang upon my lips the med- 



25 o NOTES. 

icine to cure thee (Delius). Warb. takes Restoration to be " the goddess 
of health, Hygieia." 

32. Opposed against. Cf. ii. 4. 171 above. The quartos have "exposd 
against." 

33-36. To stand . . . helm ? Omitted in the folios. 

Dread-bolted. Clarke calls attention to the number of compound words 
in this play. 

35, Perdu. Forlorn one ; according to Reed and others, an allusion 
to the enfants perdus, or soldiers sent on a desperate service. Wr. quotes 
Cotgrave : " Enfans perdus. Perdus ; or the forlorne hope, of a campe 
(are commonly Gentlemen of Companies)." 

36. Mine enemy's dog, etc. V. remarks : " The late J. W. Jarvis, the 
artist, used often to quote these lines as accumulating in the shortest 
compass the greatest causes of dislike to be overcome by good-natured 
pity. It is not merely the personal enemy, for whom there might be 
human sympathy, that is admitted to the family fireside, but his dog, and 
that a dog who had himself inflicted his own share of personal injury, and 
that too upon a gentle being from whom it was not possible that he could 
have received any provocation." 

39. To hovel. Wr. compares cabin used as a verb in T. A. iv. 2. 179. 

40. Short. If this is what S. wrote, it must be = scanty, insufficient. 
M. and F. have independently conjectured "dirt." 

41. ' Tis wonder. Cf. T. of S. v. 2. 189 : " 'T is a wonder, by your leave, 
she will be tam'd so." The measure would admit the a here as well as 
there, and S. may have written it so. 

42. Concluded all. Come to an end altogether. Wr. compares "dis- 
possess her all " in T. of A. i. 1. 139. 

47. That. So that. Gr. 283. 

49. When. The 1st quarto and 1st and 2d folios have "where." 

53. Abused. Deceived ; as in 77 below and iv. 1. 22 above. Cf. Ham. 
ii. 2. 632 : " Abuses me to damn me." 

59. No, sir. Omitted in the folios. 

60-75. Dr. Ray says : " A more faithful picture of the mind, at the 
moment when it is emerging from the darkness of disease into the clear 
atmosphere of health restored, was never executed than this of Lear's re- 
covery. Generally, recovery from acute mania is gradual, one delusion 
after another giving away, until, after a series of struggles, which may oc- 
cupy weeks or months, between the convictions of reason and the sugges- 
tions of disease, the patient comes out a sound, rational man. In a small 
proportion of cases, however, this change takes place very rapidly. 
Within the space of a few hours or a day he recognizes his true condi- 
tion, abandons his delusions, and contemplates all his relations in an en- 
tirely different light." 

61. Not an hour more or less. Sir Joshua Reynolds and Steevens 
thought this must be an interpolation ; but Lear is not yet in his perfect 
mind. The words are omitted in the quartos. 

67. Nor I know not. For the double negative, see Gr. 406. 

70. And so I am, I am. "Never surely was the passionate weeping 
of a reticent woman more perfectly expressed in brief written words than 



ACT V. SCENE I. 251 

these and the ' No cause, no cause ' that follow. They so admirably por- 
tray the suppressed weeping natural to such a character as Cordelia's ; 
concentrated and undemonstrative, yet intensely loving and earnest" 
(Clarke). 

79. KiWd. The quartos have " cured." And yet . . . has lost is 
omitted in the folios. 

80. Even o'er. " That is, to reconcile it to his apprehension" (Warb.). 
H. makes it = "try to account for, or to make the last day of his remem- 
bering tally or fit with the present." Schmidt defines it thus : " to give 
a full insight into, a clear perception of." Delius considers even an ad- 
jective. 

82. Till foirther settling. "Till his mind is more composed" (Wr.). 
Dr. Brigham (Amer. Jour, of Insanity, July, 1844, quoted by F.) remarks : 
" We confess, almost with shame, that, although near two centuries and 
a half have passed since S. thus wrote, we have very little to add to his 
method of treating the insane as thus pointed out. To produce sleep, 
and to quiet the mind by medical and moral treatment, to avoid all un- 
kindness, and, when the patients begin to convalesce, to guard, as he 
directs, against anything likely to disturb their minds and to cause a re- 
lapse, is now considered the best and nearly the only essential treatment." 
For the old-time treatment of insanity, see A.Y.L. p. 178, note on A dark 
house, etc. 

83. Walk. Withdraw. See on hi. 4. 107 above. 
86-98. Holds it . . . fought. Omitted in the folios. 
95. Arbitrement. Decision. Cf. Rich. III. v. 3. 89 : 

"the arbitrement 
Of bloody strokes and mortal-staring war." 

97. Throughly. Thoroughly. See Ham. p. 249, or M. of V. p. 144 
(note on Throughfares). 



ACT V. 

Scene I. — 4. His constant pleasure. " His settled resolution." Cf. 
" constant will " in i. 1. 36 above. 

5. Miscarried. Lost, killed. Cf. 44 below ; and see T N. p. 152, or 2 
Hen. IV. ?. 182. 

6. Doubted. Suspected, feared. So doubtful= suspicious, in 12 below. 
See Ham. pp. 187, 202, 220. 

7. Intend upon. Intend for, intend to confer upon. Elsewhere S. has 
intend to or towards. Cf. 66 below. 

9. Honoured. Honourable, virtuous. 

11. Forf ended. Forbidden. Elsewhere used by S. only in such phrases 
as God forf end, heaven forf end, etc. See Oth. p. 206. 

That thought, etc. This speech and the next are omitted in the folios. 

12. Conjunct. Intimately connected. See on ii. 2. 112 above. 

13. Bosomed. Cf. "of her bosom" in iv. 5. 26 above. As far as rue 
call hers = " Hers in the full sense of the word " (J. H.). 



252 NOTES. 

16. Fear me not. Fear not for me. See on iv. 2. 31 above. 
18, 19. I had . . . and me. Omitted in the folios. For had rather, 
see A. Y. L. p. 158, or M. of V. p. 132. 

20. Be-met. Met. For the usual force of the prefix be-, see Gr. 438. 
23-28. Where I . . . nobly. Omitted in the folios. 

24. For. As for. Gr. 149. 

25. It toucheth us, etc. " Albany is marching against the French as in- 
vaders of his country, not as the supporters of Lear. France is the sub- 
ject of bolds as well as of invades, and not it, the business, as Steevens 
explains it" (Wr.). 

26. Bolds. The verb is found nowhere else in S., but we have bolden 
in A. Y. L. ii. 7. 91 and Hen. VIII. i. 2. 55. 

27. Make oppose. Cause or compel to fight against us. 

28. Reasoned. Argued, debated (Schmidt). Wr. makes it = " talked 
of." Cf ii. 4. 259 above. 

30. Particular. Private, personal. Cf. i. 4. 332 above. See also the 
noun in ii. 4. 287 above. 

For and particular broils the quartos have "dore (or "doore") partic- 
ulars," and " to " for the in the next line. 

32. The ancient ofzuar. " Such as are grown old in the practice of the" 
military art" (Eccles). Walker and Schmidt conjecture "ancient men 
of war." M. thinks that an officer is meant, " the adjutant general, as 
we should say." For ancient-= ensign, see Hen. V. p. 154. . 

33. I shall attend, etc. The line is not in the folios. 

36. Co7ivenient. Becoming, proper. Cf. iv. 5. 31 above. 

37. / know the riddle. I understand your game ; you want to keep 
watch of me. 

44. Miscarry. See on 5 above. Here the meaning is plain from what 
follows. 

50. Overlook. Look over. See on i. 2. 32 above. 

53. Discovery. Reconnoitring. Cf. Macb. v. 4. 6 (Wr.). 

54. Greet the time. " Be ready to greet the occasion " (Johnson). 
56. Jealotis. Suspicious ; as in i. 4. 66 above. 

61. Carry out my side. "Be a winner in the game" (Schmidt). Ma- 
son sees an allusion to card-playing ; but there are sides in all kinds of 
games, as well as in more serious contests. Cf. Cor. v. 3. 13 : " which 
side should win," etc. 

65. Taking-off. Cf. Macb. i. 7. 20 : " his taking-off." See our ed. p. 177. 

68. Shall, etc. A "confusion of construction." See Gr. 411. 

For my state, etc. For it concerns me to defend my state, etc. Cf. 
Rich. III. iv. 3. 56 : " my counsel is my shield." For stands tipon, see 
Rich. II. p. 186, or Ham. p. 269. Cf. Gr. 204. 

Scene II. — The quartos have the stage-direction : " Alarum. Enter 
the powers of France ouer the stage, Cordelia with her father in her hand.' 1 '' 

1. Tree. The quartos have "bush." 

2. For your good host. That is, for your shelter. H. considers it "a 
rather strange use of hostf but the tree is simply compared to a host, or 
one who takes us under his roof. 



ACT V. SCENE III. 



2 53 



5. Mr. Spedding would begin act v. here. See New Shaks. Soc. Trans- 
actions for 1877-79, p. 15. 

11. Ripeness is all. Steevens compares Ham. v. 2. 232 : " If it be now, 
't is not to come ; if it be not to come, it will be now ; if it be not now, 
yet it will come : the readiness is all." 

Scene III. — 2. Their greater pleasures. " The pleasure of those great- 
er personages" (Wr.). 

3. Censure. Judge, pass sentence upon. See on iii. 5. 2 above. 

7. These daughters and these sisters. "A bitter sarcasm in simplest 
words, thoroughly characteristic in the woman of quiet expression with 
intense feeling" (Clarke). Cf. p. 30 above. 

17. As if we were God's spies. "As if we were angels commissioned to 
survey and report the lives of men, and consequently endowed with the 
power of prying into the original motives of action and the mysteries of 
conduct" (Johnson). 

18. Packs. Combinations, coalitions. Cf. M. W. iv. 2. 123 : "a knot, 
a ging, a pack, a conspiracy," etc. 

20-25. Dr. Bucknill says : " This is not mania, but neither is it sound 
mind. It is the emotional excitability often seen in extreme age, as it is 
depicted in the early scenes of the drama, and it is precisely true to the 
probabilities of the mind's history, that this should be the phase of infir- 
mity displaying itself at this moment. Any other dramatist than S. would 
have represented the poor old king quite restored to the balance and 
control of his faculties. The complete efficiency of filial love- would have 
been made to triumph over the laws of mental function. But S. has rep- 
resented the exact degree of improvement which was probable under the 
circumstances, namely, restoration from the intellectual mania which re- 
sulted from the combined influence of physical and moral shock, with 
persistence of the emotional excitement and disturbance which is the in- 
curable and unalterable result of passion exaggerated by long habitude 
and by the malign influence of extreme age." 

23. like foxes. Alluding to the practice of smoking foxes out of their 
holes (Heath). Upton thought there was a reference to Samson's foxes. 
Steevens cites Harrington's Ariosto : 

" Ev'n as a Foxe, whom smoke and fire doth fright, 
So as he dare not in the ground remaine. 
Bolts out, and through both smoke and fires he flieth 
Into the Tariers mouth, and there he dieth." 

24. Good-years. Probably a corruption of goujere, or the pox. See 
Much Ado, p. 126. 

Flesh andfell=fiesh and skin. For fell, see Macb. p. 251. 

28. This note. The warrant for the execution of Lear and Cordelia 
(Malone). 

33. Thy great employment, etc. The important business intrusted to 
you does not admit of debate (Malone). 

36. Write happy. Write yourself down as fortunate, count yourself 
lucky. 

37. Cany it. Conduct the business, manage it. See Much Ado, p. 139. 



254 



NOTES. 



39, 40. I cannot . . . I ' ' II do 7. Omitted in the folios. 
41. Strain. Race, lineage. See Much Ado, p. 134. 
43. Opposites. Opponents. See Ham. p. 227. 

48. Retention. Confinement, custody. The words and appointed guard 
are omitted in the folios. 

50. The common bosom. " The affection of all men generally " (Capell). 

51. Our impressed lances. The soldiers we have pressed into our ser- 
vice. Our eyes which — the eyes of us who. Cf. 2 above. 

55-60. At this time . . . fitter place. Omitted in the folios. 
66. Immediacy. Being next in authority to me. Malone well com- 
pares Ham. i. 2. 109 : " most immediate to our throne." 

69. Your addition. The title you have given him. Cf. ii. 2. 21 above. 
The quartos have "your aduancement." 

70. Compeers. Is the peer of, is equal with. The verb is not found 
elsewhere in S., and the noun occurs only in Sonn. 86. 7. 

71. The quartos give this speech to Goneril. 

73. Looked but a-squint. Steevens cites Ray, Proverbs: "Love being 
jealous makes a good eye look a-squint." 

74. / am not well. The poison which Goneril has given her (cf. 97 
and 227 below) begins to work. 

75. Stomach. Wrath, passion (Schmidt). Cf. the quibble in T G. of 

V. i. 2. 68 : 

" I would it were, 
That you might kill your stomach on your meat, 
And not upon your maid." 

77. The walls are thine. It has been a matter of dispute whether this 
refers to Regan's castle (cf. 246 below), or whether it is used figuratively 
= "I surrender at discretion." We are inclined to take the latter view. 
The first folio has " is " for are. Theo. conjectured " they all " for the 
walls; and Jennens would read " thy will is mine." 

80. The let-alone, etc. " Whether he shall not or shall, depends not on 
your choice" (Johnson). Delias thinks that your is emphatic; that not 
she, but he, will prevent Regan's marriage. 

82. Thme. The quartos read "good," and give the line to Edmund. 

84. On capital treason. Both on and of are used by S. with the cause 
of the arrest. Cf. Rich. II. iv. 1. 151 : "Of capital treason we arrest you 
here," etc. See Gr. 177, and cf. 181. For thy arrest the quartos have 
" thine attaint." 

90. An interlude ! " Our play has plot within plot !" (M.). 

94. Prove it. The folios have " make it." 

97. Medicine. The quartos have " poison." 

98. What. Whoever. Cf. Hen. VIII. ii. 1. 65 and v. 3. 47 : "Be what 
they will," etc. Gr. 254. 

103. A herald, ho, a herald! Omitted in the folios. 

104. Virtue. Valour (the Latin virtus); as in Cor. i. 1. 41 : "even to 
the altitude of his virtue." 

no. Sound, trumpet. Omitted in the folios, as is Sound in 115 below. 

112. Lists. The quartos have "hoast." 

For the formalities of the contest here, cf. Rich. II. i. 3. 



ACT V. SCENE II T. 255 

Supposed. Pretended. Cf. M. W. iv. 4. 61 : "the supposed fairies." 
See also 3 Hen. VI. iii. 3. 223, iv. 1. 93, etc. 

119. What are you? Who are you? See on iii. 4. 117 above; and cf. 
125 and 163 below. 

124. Cope. For the transitive use, see A. Y. L. p. 155. 

129. The privilege of mine honotirs. Pope's reading, made up from 
that of the quartos "the priuiledge of my tongue," and of the folios, "my 
priuiledge, The priuiledge of mine honours." 

130. My oath, and my pi'ofession. That is, as a knight. 

131. Maugre. In spite of. See T. N p. 148. The quartos transpose 
place, youth, making, as F. notes, a harsh recurrence of similar sounds. 

132. Fire-new. Fresh from the mint. See T N p. 148. 

135. Conspirant. "Conspirer" {Macb. iv. I. 91). Elsewhere S. uses 
conspirator. 

136. Upward. Wr. compares "backward" in Temp. i. 2. 50. 

137. Below thy foot. The quartos have "beneath thy feet." 

141. lit wisdom, etc. Because if his adversary was not of equal rank, 
he might have declined the combat. Hence the herald proclaimed (in) 
"If any man of quality or degree," etc. (Malone). Cf. also 153 below. 

144. And that. And since that. Gr. 285. Say — assay, taste, proof; 
alluding to the formality of giving the say at the royal table. See Rich. 
II. p. 220, note on Taste of it first. Cf. also i. 2. 39 above. 

145. What safe and nicely, etc. The delay which by the laws of knight- 
hood I might properly and with due regard to punctilio make, I scorn to 
make. We may consider safe and nicely as an instance like " fresh and 
merrily" in J. C. ii. 1. 224 (see Gr. 397) ; for, though S. sometimes uses 
safe adverbially, he has safely much oftener. 

148. Hell-hated. "Abhorred like hell" (Schmidt). J. H. explains it 
as "prompted by hellish hate." 

149. Which. As to which. See Gr. 272. 

152. Save him, etc. Theo. gave this speech to Goneril, and Walker 
and Halliwell think he was right. Johnson says : " Albany desires that 
Edmund's life may be spared at present, only to obtain his confession, 
and to convict him openly by his own letter." 

Practice. See on i. 2. 161 above. The quartos read " meere practise." 

156. Hold, sir. Addressed to Edmund. For the interjectional use of 
hold, see J. C. p. 140. 

157. Name. The quartos have " thing." 

160. Oh ! Omitted in the quartos ; but, as F. notes, it is the groan that 
breaks from Albany at the revelation of his wife's abandoned effrontery, 
and is as needful to the character as it is to the rhythm. 

161. Ask me not, etc. The quartos give this to Goneril. K. justifies 
the folio by referring to 158 above. After saying that, Albany would not 
ask Goneril if she knew the paper. 

162. Govern. Restrain, control. 

166. This fortune on me. The luck to conquer me. For tcpon Wr. 
compares iii. 6. 87 above. 

169. Abbott (Gr. 480) makes the second more dissyllabic. W. con- 
jectures "thou then hast." The folio has " th' hast wrong'd." 



256 NOTES. 

171. The gods, etc. See p. 34 above. Wordsworth quotes the Apocry- 
phal Book of Wisdom, xi. 16 : " wherewithal a man sinneth, by the same 
also shall he be punished." For vices the quartos read "vertues," and 
" scourge " for plague. 

175. The wheel. That is, of fortune. Cf. ii. 2. 167 above. Wr. quotes 
T. N. v. 1. 385. On the passage cf. J. C. v. 3. 25 : 

"This day I breathed first: time is come round, 
And where I did begin there shall I end ; 
My life is run his compass." 

178. Split my heart. Cf. Rich. III. i. 3. 300 (see also v. 1. 26) : " When 
he shall split thy very heart with sorrow," etc. See also A. and C.v. 1. 24. 

182. List. For the transitive use, see Gr. 199. Cf. Hen. V. i. 1. 43, 
Ham. i. 3. 30, etc. 

186. That we, etc. The quartos have "That with," and Jennens, fol- 
lowing them, changed would to " we 'd ;" but the folio text, as Boswell, 
Delius, Wr., and F. say, is intelligible enough. 

190. Rings. Sockets ; the case of iv. 6. 126 above. Wr. quotes Per. 
iii. 2. 99. 

193. Fault. F. thinks Delius is right in giving this the meaning of 
"misfortune;" but possibly Edgar now blames himself for not making 
himself known to his father sooner. 

195. Good success. Good result, or issue. See Rich. III. p. 232, note 
on Dangerous success. 

197. Flawed. Broken. Cf. ii. 4. 280 above. 

202. As. As if. See on iii. 4. 15 above, and cf. 214 below. 

203. More, more woful. Cf. K. John, iv. 2. 42: "And more, more 
strong," etc. See also Cor. iv. 6. 63. 

205-208. This would „ . . extremity. Omitted in the folios. 

206. But another. Malone takes this in opposition to such as love not 
sorrozv, as if it were "but another, less sensitive, would make," etc. But, 
as Wr. remarks, Steevens is right in referring it to what Edgar has yet 
to tell as the climax of his story. He understands but in the usual ad- 
versative sense. It seems better to take it as qualifying another, as if he 
said "one more such circumstance only, by amplifying what is already 
too much, would add to it and so exceed what seemed to be the limit of 
sorrow." For this gerundial use of the infinitive see iii. 5. 8 above, and 
cf. Gr. 356. 

208. Top. See on i. 2. 16 above. 

209. Big. Loud. Cf. A. Y. L. ii. 7. 161 : " his big manly voice," etc. 
214. Him. The quartos have "me;" corrected by Theo. 

217. Puissant. Always a dissyllable in S. F or puissance, see K. John, 
p. 158. 

218. Began to crack. Wr. quotes Rich. III. iv. 4. 365 : " Harp on it still 
shall I till heart-strings break." 

219. Tranc'd. As in a trance, apparently dead ; like entranced 'in Per. 
iii. 2. 94. 

223. What kind of help ? " I find something very expressive of the 

versatile and vigilant character of Edgar in this inquiry" (W. W. Lloyd). 

232. Judgment. The quartos have "Iustice." Tyrwhitt remarks here: 






ACT V. SCENE III. 257 

" If S. had studied Aristotle all his life, he would not perhaps have been 
able to mark with more precision the distinct operations of terror and 
pity." 

235. Manners. S. makes the word either singular or plural, like news, 
tidings, etc. See R. and J. p. 217, and cf. Gr. 333. 

242. After. For the adverbial use, cf. Temp. ii. 2. 10, iii. 2. 158, etc. 

246. My writ. Cf. 28 above. 

249. To who ? Cf. Oth. i. 2. 52 : " To who ?" Id. iv. 2. 99 : " With who ?" 
etc. See also on iv. 3. 7 above. 

251. Take my sivord, etc. Jennens, following the 1st quarto^ reads : 

' ' Take my sword, 
The captain — give it the captain." 

252. Haste thee. For thee apparently used for thou, see Gr. 212. 

256. Fordid. Destroyed. See Ham. p. 201, or M.N.D. p. 188 (note 
on Fordone). Cf. 292 below. 

258. Stones. The reading of the early eds. D., H., and Coll. (3d ed.) 
give "stone." 

263. Stone. Crystal (Delius). The Coll. MS. has "shine." 

264. The promised end. The predicted doomsday. On the next line, 
cf. Macb. ii. 3. 83 : " The great doom's image." 

265. Fall and cease ! " Fall, heavens, and let all things cease !" (Capell). 
Delius takes fall and cease as nouns in apposition with horror, which had 
occurred to us as a possible interpretation. M. and Schmidt also adopt 
this view. For cease as a noun, cf. Ham. iii. 3. 15 : "cease of majesty." 
For other explanations of this perplexing little speech, see F. 

266. This feather stirs ! Cf. 2 Hen. IV. iv. 5. 31 : 

" By his gates of breath 
There lies a downy feather which stirs not. 
Did he suspire, that light and weightless down 
Perforce must move." 

270. Murtherers. The 1st folio has " Murderors," the other folios 
" murtherers ;" the quartos have "murderous" or "murdrous." 

271. / might have sav'd her. Schmidt reads " Ye " for I ; but, as M. 
says, " they have distracted his attention for a moment, and in that mo- 
ment he might have saved his child." 

273. Her voice, etc. M. remarks : " This wonderfully quiet touch seems 
to complete the perfection of Cordelia's character, evidently the poet's 
best loved creation, his type of the ideal Englishwoman. Her voice was 
the outward signature of her graciously tempered nature. Burke's de- 
scription of his wife is a master's variation on Shakespeare's theme : 
' Her eyes have a mild light, but they awe you when she pleases ; they 
command, like a good man out of office, not by authority, but by virtue. 
Her smiles are inexpressible. Her voice is a soft, low music, not formed 
to rule in public assemblies, but to charm those who can distinguish a 
company from a crowd. It has this advantage, you must be close to her 
to hear it.' " 

275. A-hanging. For the prefix, see Gr. 24. 

277. Biting falchion. Cf. M. W. ii. 1. 136: "I have a sword, and it 
shall bite upon my necessity." 

R 



2 5 8 



NOTES. 






278. Made them skip. Cf. M. TV. ii. I. 236 : " I have seen the time, 
with my long sword I would have made you four tall fellows skip like 
rats." 

282. Ye. The early eds. have " we," which Jennens changed to "you ;" 
but, as F. remarks, "ye " is "more in accordance with the ductus litera- 
rum." With this reading, Kent refers to himself, in answer to Lear's 
question, Who are you ? 

283. This is. The folio reading. Walker conjectures " This '." See 
on iv. 6. 162 above. Jennens and the Coll. MS. give "light" for sight, 
which W. and H. adopt. 

285. He 7 s a good fellow, etc. Theo. changed He 7 s to " 'T was," and 
He HI to " He 'd j" but, as Wr. remarks, " Lear's mind is again off its 
balance." 

289. Your first of difference. "Your first turn of fortune" (Schmidt). 
Cf. Mac/?, v. 2. 11 : "their first of manhood." 

291. Nor no man else. " Welcome, alas ! here 's no welcome for me or 
any one " (Capell). 

292. Fordone. See on 256 above. The quartos have "foredoome" or 
" foredoom' d." 

293. Desperately. In despair (Schmidt). 

294. Says. The quartos have "sees." 

298. Decay. Capell and Steevens refer this to Lear ( = "this piece of 
decayed royalty, this ruined majesty"); but Delius and F. are probably 
right in taking it as ="the collective misfortunes which this scene re- 
veals." 

302. Boot. More than that. Cf. iv. 6. 206 above. 

305. O, see, see. These words are occasioned by seeing Lear again em- 
brace the body of Cordelia (Capell). 

306. My poor fool. Cordelia ; not his Fool, as some have thought 
(Steevens). For poor fool as a term of endearment, see Much Ado, p. 133. 
The editors generally agree in this interpretation ; but K. and Lloyd 
think that it is a reminiscence of the Fool, though the latter remarks that 
" no more may be meant than that in his wandering state he confuses the 
image of the Fool with that of his daughter in his arms." F. gives nearly 
three pages of notes on the passage, at the end of which he says : " Very 
reluctantly I have come to the conviction that this refers to Cordelia." 
We sympathize fully with his regret that it cannot be referred to Lear's 
"poor fool and knave" (iii. 2.67), but to our mind the context settles the 
question beyond a doubt. There is no room for a divided sorrow here ; 
Lear's thoughts can never wander more from his dead daughter. 

310. Pray you, undo this button. The Quarterly Reviezv (April, 1833, 
p. 177, quoted by F.) remarks : " Scarcely have the spectators of this an- 
guish had time to mark and express to each other their conviction of the 
extinction of his mind, when some physical alteration, made dreadfully 
visible, urges Albany to cry out, ' O, see, see !' The intense excitement 
which Lear had undergone, and which lent for a time a supposititious life 
to his enfeebled frame, gives place to the exhaustion of despair. But 
even here, where any other mind would have confined itself to the single 
passion of parental despair, S. contrives to indicate by a gesture the very 



ADDENDA. 259 

train of internal physical changes which are causing death. The blood 
gathering about the heart can no longer be propelled by its enfeebled im- 
pulse. Lear, too weak to relieve the impediments of his dress, which he 
imagines cause the sense of suffocation, asks a bystander to 'undo this 
button.'" 

314. Pass. See on iv. 6. 47 above. 

315. Tough. Some copies of the 2d quarto have been quoted as hav- 
ing "rough," but the supposed r is a broken t. 

321. Sustain. As Jennens remarks, "the play would best end here." 

322. A journey. That is, to another world. 

323. Master. " Lear. It would be hard to find in S. a reference to 
God as master'''' (Schmidt). 

324. The weight, etc. The folios (followed by Rowe, Delius, Schmidt, 
and F.) give this speech to Edgar. Schmidt thinks that the first two 
lines may belong to Edgar, and the last two to Albany. 

326, 327. Jennens calls these lines "silly and false." D. says that the 
last line "is certainly obscure in meaning." M. remarks: "Age and 
fulness of sorrows have been the same thing to the unhappy Lear ; his 
life has been prolonged into times so dark in their misery and so fierce 
in their unparalleled ingratitude and reckless passion, that even if we live 
as long as he has (which will hardly be), our existence will never light on 
days as evil as those which he has seen." 



ADDENDA. 

Lear's Insanity. —-Dr. Brigham [Shakespeare'' s Illustrations of In- 
sanity, in Amer. Jour, of Insanity, July, 1844) says : " Lear's is a genuine 
case of insanity from the beginning to the end ; such as we often see in 
aged persons. On reading it we cannot divest ourselves of the idea that 
it is a real case of insanity correctly reported. Still, we apprehend, the 
play, or case, is generally misunderstood. The general belief is, that the 
insanity of Lear originated solely from the ill-treatment of his daughters, 
while in truth he was insane before that, from the beginning of the play, 
when he gave his kingdom away, and banished, as it were, Cordelia and 
Kent, and abused his servants. The ill-usage of his daughters only ag- 
gravated the disease, and drove him to raving madness. Had it been 
otherwise, the case, as one of insanity, would have been inconsistent and 
very unusual. Shakespeare and Walter Scott prepare those whom they 
represent as insane, by education and other circumstances, for the disease, 
— they predispose them to insanity, and thus its outbreak is not unnatural. 
In the case of Lear the insanity is so evident before he received any abuse 
from his daughters, that, professionally speaking, a feeling of regret arises 
that he was not so considered and so treated. He was unquestionably 
very troublesome, and by his 'new pranks,' as his daughter calls them, 
and rash and variable conduct, caused his children much trouble, and 
introduced much discord into their households. In fact, a little feeling 
of commiseration for his daughters at first arises in our minds from these 



260 



NOTES. 



circumstances, though to be sure they form no excuse for their subse- 
quent bad conduct. [ Let it be remembered they exhibited no marked 
disposition to ill-treat or neglect him until after the conduct of himself 
and his knights had become outrageous. Then they at first reproved 
him, or rather asked him to change his course in a mild manner. Thus 
Goneril says to him : ' I would you would make use of that good wisdom 
Whereof I know you are fraught ; and put away These dispositions 
which of late transform you From what you rightly are;' showing that 
previously he had been different. This, however, caused an unnatural 
and violent burst of rage, but did not originate his insanity, for he had 
already exhibited symptoms of it, and it would have progressed naturally 
even if he had not been thus addressed. 

" Lear is not after this represented as constantly deranged. Like most 
persons affected by this kind of insanity, he at times converses rationally. 

"In the storm-scene he becomes violently enraged, exhibiting what 
may be seen daily in a mad-house, a paroxysm of rage and violence. 
It is not until he has seen and conversed with Edgar, ' the philosopher 
and learned Theban,' as he calls him, that he becomes a real maniac. 
After this, aided by a proper course of treatment, he falls asleep, and 
sleep, as in all similar cases, partially restores him. But the violence of 
his disease and his sufferings are too great for his feeble system, and he 
dies, and dies deranged. The whole case is instructive, not as an inter- 
esting story merely, but as a faithful history of a case of senile insanity -,. 
or the insanity of old age." 

The " Time-Analysis " of the Play. — This is summed up by Mr. 
P. A. Daniel, in his paper "On the Times or Durations of the Action of 
Shakspere's Plays" {Transactions of New Shaks. Soc, 1877-79, p. 220) 
as follows : 

" Day 1. Act I. sc. i. 
" 2. Act I. sc. ii. 

An Interval of something less than a fortnight. 
" 3. Act I. sc. iii. iv. and v. 
" 4. Act II. sc. i. and ii. 
" 5. Act II. sc. iii. and iv. ; Act III. sc. i.-vi. 
" 6. Act III. sc. vii. ; Act IV. sc. i. 
" 7. Act IV. sc. ii. 

Perhaps an Interval of a day or two. 
" 8. Act IV. sc. iii. 
" 9. Act IV. sc. iv. v. and vi. 
" 10. Act IV. sc. vii. ; Act V. sc. i.-iii." 
For Eccles's scheme, which is not so satisfactory, see Mr. Daniel's paper, 
p. 221, or F. p. 408 fol. 

Tate's Version of the Play. — In 1681 Nahum Tate brought out a 
version of Lear, in which — to say nothing of minor changes — the ending 
of the play was made a happy instead of a tragic one. Neither Lear nor 
Cordelia dies, and the latter marries Edgar. This was the Lear " which 
held the stage for a hundred and sixty years, and in which all our great- 



ADDENDA. 261 

est actors, Garrick, Kemble, Kean, and others, won applause, and which 
was discarded only about forty years ago " (F.). Verplanck considers 
that Charles Lamb has hit the reason of this : " If he is right, then the 
real secret of the prolonged popularity of Tate's distortion of King Lear 
is to be found in the fact that the grand and terrible passion of the orig- 
inal is too purely spiritual for mere dramatic exhibition, because it belongs 
to that highest region of intellectual poetry which can be reached only by 
the imagination, warmed and raised by its own workings ; while, on the 
contrary, it becomes chilled and crippled by attention to material and 
external imitation. He says : 

" ' The Lear of Shakespeare cannot be acted. The contemptible ma- 
chinery by which they mimic the storm which he goes out in is not more 
inadequate to represent the horrors of the real elements than any actor 
can be to represent Lear ; they might more easily propose to personate 
the Satan of Milton upon a stage, or one of Michael Angelo's terrible 
figures. The greatness of Lear is not in corporal dimension, but in intel- 
lectual : the explosions of his passion are terrible as a volcano ; they 
are storms turning up and disclosing to the bottom that sea, his mind, 
with all its vast riches. It is his mind which is laid bare. This case of 
flesh and blood seems too insignificant to be thought on ; even as he 
himself neglects it. On the stage we see nothing but corporal infirmi- 
ties and weakness, the impotence of rage ; while we read it, we see 
not Lear, but we are Lear, — we are in his mind, we are sustained by 
a grandeur which baffles the malice of daughters and storms ; in the 
aberrations of his reason, we discover a mighty irregular power of reason- 
ing, immethodized from the ordinary purposes of life, but exerting its 
powers, as the wind blows where it listeth, at will upon the corruptions 
and abuses of mankind. What have looks or tones to do with that sub- 
lime identification of his age with that of the heavens themselves, when, 
in his reproaches to them for conniving at the injustice of his children, 
he reminds them that "they themselves are old?" What gesture shall 
we appropriate to this ? What has the voice or the eye to do with such 
things ? But the play is beyond all art, as the tamperings with it show ; 
it is too hard and stony; it must have love-scenes and a happy ending. 
It is not enough that Cordelia is a daughter, she must shine as a lover 
too. Tate has put his hook in the nostrils of this Leviathan, for Gar- 
rick and his followers, the showmen of the scene, to draw the mighty 
beast about more easily. A happy ending ! — as if the living martyrdom 
that Lear had gone through, — the flaying of his feelings alive, — did not 
make a fair dismissal from the stage of life the only decorous thing for 
him. If he is to live and be happy after, if he could sustain this world's 
burden after, why all this pudder and preparation, — why torment us with 
all this unnecessary sympathy? As if the childish pleasure of getting 
his gilt robes and sceptre again could tempt him to act over again his 
misused station, — as if, at his years and with his experience, anything was 
left but to die.' " * 

* Cf. pp. 30, 34, and 39 above. For a fuller account of Tate's version, see F. pp. 
467-478. 




OLD BRIDGE AT STRATFORD. 



INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES 
EXPLAINED. 



abated (=deprived), 211. 

able (verb), 246. 

abuse (=deceive), 233, 250. 

accent (=speech), 204. 

according to my bond, 169. 

a-cold, 220. 

action-taking, 201. 

addition, 171, 201, 254. 

address toward, 174. 

advise yourself, 196. 

affected, 165. 

affliction, 217. 

afore, 194. 

after (adverb), 257. 

aged (metre), 241. 

a-hanging, 257. 

a-height, 244. 

aidant and remediate, 241. 

Albany, 16^. 

all (adverbial), 170. 

all cruels else subscribe, 23 1. 

allay (intransitive), 183. 

allow (=approve of), 212. 

allowance, 190. 

allows itself to, 233. 

am bethought, 206. 

amities, 183. 

ancient (=aged), 202. 

ancient of war, 252. 

and (expletive), 218. 

anguish, 241. 

anoint thee, 223. 

answer (=answer for), 172, 

183, 205. 
answer (noun), 235. 
approve (=prove), 205, 212, 

225. 
arbitrement, 251. 
arch (=master,', 197. 
are you there with me? 246. 
argument (=theme), 174. 
as (=as if), 203, 219, 256. 
as (omitted), 184, 208, 214. 
as far as we call hers, 251. 
aspect, 204. 
a-squint, 254. 
at each, 244. 
at Fortune's alms, 177. 



at gate, 230, 232. 
at point, 193, 216. 
at task, 194. 
attend dispatch, 200. 
attend my taking, 206. 
a-twain, 202. 
authorities, 183. 
avert (=turn), 174. 
ay and no too, 245. 

ballow, 248. 

balmed, 229. 

bandy, 185. 

bans (=curses), 207. 

barber-monger, 201. 

bearing (=suffering), 230. 

Bedlam (=lunatic), 233. 

Bedlam beggars, 207. 

be-met, 252. 

bench (verb), 227. 

benison, 176. 

besort, 192. 

best alarumed, 197. 

best of our times, 179. 

bestowed (=lodged), 214, 

249. 
better way, a, 239. 
betwixt, 173. 
beweep, 193. 
bewray, 199, 230. 
bias of nature, 181. 
biding (=abode), 248. 
big (—loud), 256. 
biting falchion, 257. 
blank, 173. 

block (of hat), 246. * 
blood (=nature), 225. 
blood (=passion), 238. 
blown (= inflated), 241. 
boil (spelling), 213. 
bolds (verb), 252. 
boot, 248, 258. 
bosomed, 251. 
bosoms (=love), 177. 
both, 166. 
bourn, 244. 
brach, 188, 227. 
brains (number), 194. 



brazed, 165. 
bring away, 205. 
British, 225. 
brow of youth, 193. 
brown bills, 245. 
burdocks, 240. 
buzz (=whisper), 193. 
by day and night, 183. 
by word, 241. 

cadent, 193. 

Camelot, 203. 

can, 240. 

capable, 199. 

carbonado, 201. 

carry (=sustain), 217. 

carry it, 253. 

carry out my side, 252. 

case (=socket), 246. 

cat (=civet cat), 222. 

catch cold, 187. 

cease (noun), 257. 

censured (=judged), 225, 

253- 
century, 240. 
challenge, 166. 
champaigns, 166. 
character, 179, 198. 
charge (=expense), 213. 
che vor ye, 248. 
check (=rebuke), 205. 
child-changed, 249. 
Child Rowland, 225. 
childed, 230. 
chill (provincial), 248. 
choice and rarest, 192. 
choughs, 242. 
clamour-moistened, 239. 
clearest, 244. 
closet (=chamber), 179. 
clothier's yard, 245. 
clotpoll, 184. 
clout, 245. 

cock (=cockboat), 243. 
cockney, 209. 

cocks (=weathercocks), 216. 
cold'st, 176. 
come your ways, 201. 



264 INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED. 



comfortable (active^ 193,206. 

comforting, 225. _ 

commend (=deliver), '208. 

commit, 221. 

commodities, 233. 

common bosom, 254. 

compact, 194. 

compact (=compacted), 178. 

compeers (verb), 254. 

conceit, 244. 

conceive, 235. 

concluded all, 250. 

conditions (=temper), 239. 

confine (accent), 210. 

confined to exhibition, 178. 

conjunct, 251. 

conjuring (accent), 196. 

consort (=company), 199. 

conspirant, 255. 

constant (=settled), 251. 

continents, 218. 

convenience (metre), 229. 

convenient, 252. 

converse, 184. 

convey, 180. 

cope (transitive), 255. 

corky, 230. 

coronet (=crown), 171. 

costard, 248. 

court holy-water, 217. 

cowish, 235. 

coxcomb, 186. 

crab (=crab apple\ 195. 

craves (= demands), 200. 

crow-keeper, 244. 

cruel (play upon;, 207. 

ci-uels, 231. 

cry grace, 218. 

cry sleep to death, 209. 

cry you mercy, 225. 

cub-drawn, 215. 

cuckoo-flowers, 240. 

cue, 182. 

cullionly, 201. 

curiosity, 165, 178, 185. 

curious (=elegant), 184. 

curled hair, 221. 

curst, 198. 

cut to the brains, 247. 

darkling, 191. 
darnel, 240. 
daub it, 234. 
deadly use, 236. 
dear, 192. 
dearn, 231. 
death-practised, 249. 
deathsman, 248. 
deboshed, 192. 
decay, 258. 

deficient (=defective), 243. 
dejected thing of fortune, 
233- 



demand (=inquire\ 218. 
deny (=refuse), 209. 
depend ( =be dependent ), 

192. 
deprive, 178. 

derogate ( = degraded), 192. 
desperately, 258. 
detested, 179, 192. 
diffidences, 183. 
diffuse, 184. 
digest (^enjoy), 171. 
disasters, 181. 
disbranch, 236. 
disclaims in, 202. 
discommend, 204. 
discovery, 252. 
diseases, 173. 
dismantle. 175. 
disnatured, 193. 
dispatch, 197. 
display (intransitive^, 208. 
dispositions, 191, 193. 
disquantity, 192. 
disquietly, 181. 
dissipation of cohorts, 183. 
distaste (verb), 183. 
distract (—distracted), 249. 
ditch-dog, 223. 
do a courtesy to, 230. 
do de, do de, do de, 220. 
do respect, 205. 
dolours (play upon), 208. 
Dolphin my boy, 222. 
doubted (=suspected), 251. 
doubtful (= suspicious), 251. 
dullard, 198. 
dunghill (personal), 248. 

ear-kissing, 196. 
earnest (noun), 185. 
easy-borrowed, 212. 
eat no fish, to, 184. 
effects, 171. 
elbows (verb), 240. 
elf (verb), 207. 
embossed, 213. 
engine (=rack), 192. 
enguard, 194. 
enormous, 206. 
enridged, 244. 
entertain, 228. 
entire point, 176. 
epileptic, 203. 
esperance, 233. 
essay or taste, 179. 
even (verb), 251. 
evidence (=witnesses), 227. 
eyeless, 215. 

fa, sol, la, mi, 182. 
faint, 184. 
faithed, 198. 
fall (transitive?), 211. 



fall and cease, 257. 

fast (=fixed), 166. 

fastened (=confirmed\ 198. 

father (=old man), 248. 

fathered, 230. 

fathom (plural), 244. 

favours (=features), 231. 

fear (= cause to fear), 225. 

fear (=fear for), 236, 252. 

feature (=figure), 237. 

feeling (=heartfelt), 247. 

feelingly, 246. 

feet (=footing), 216. 

felicitate, 167. 

fell (=fallen), 244. 

festinate, 230. 

fetches, 209. 

filths, 236. 

fire (dissyllable), 217. 

fire-new, 255. 

first of difference, 258. 

five wits, 220, 227. 

flawed, 256. 

flaws, 214. 

flax and whites of eggs, 233. 

flesh (verb), 202. 

flesh and fell, 253. 

fleshment, 204. 

Flibbertigibbet, 222, 234. 

foins, 248. 

fond (=foolish), 179, 193. 

fool (abstract), 188. 

foot-ball player, 185. 

footed, 219, 231. 

foppish (=foolish), 189. 

for (=as for), 252. 

for (=because), 175. 

for his particular, 214. 

for that, 178. 

forbid thee, 217. 

fordid, 257. 

fordone, 258. 

forfended, 251. 

fork (=arrow-head), 172. 

Frateretto, 226. 

fraught, 191. 

free (=sound), 244. 

from (=away from), 200. 

frontlet, 189. 

fruitfully, 248. 

full (adverbial), 194. 

fumiter, 240. 

furnishings, 216. 

gad, 178. 

gait (=way), 248. 

gallow, 217. 

gasted, 197. 

germens, 217. 

give you good morrow ! 205. 

Gloster (city), 194. 

Gloster (spelling), 165. 

gloves in my cap, 221. 



INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED. 



265 



God's spies, 253. 
goodman boy, 202. 
good-years, 253. 
gossamer, 244. 
govern, 255. 
graced, 192. 
gracious my lord, 218. 
greet the time, 252. 
gross (=big), 242. 
grossly (=palpably), 177. 

had rather, 252. 

had thought to have found, 

190. 
halcyon, 203. 
handy-dandy, 246. 
happy (=lucky), 206. 
harms, 183. 

hatch (=half-door), 228. 
head-lugged, 236. 
heart-strook, 215. 
Hecate (dissyllable), 170. 
hefts, 211. 
hell-hated, 255. 
helps (=heals), 240. 
hemlock, 240. 
hest, 211. 
high noises, 230. 
high-engendered, 217. 
high-judging, 213. 
hit (=agree), 177. 
hizzing, 226. 
hog in sloth, etc., 221. 
hold amity, 213. 
holp, 231. 
holy cords, 202. 
home (=fully), 219. 
honoured ( = honorable ), 

251. 
Hoppedance, 227. 
horn is dry, thy, 228. 
horrible (adverb 1 , 242. 
horse's health, 226. 
hospitable favours, 231. 
host (figurative), 252. 
house, 210. 
hovel (verb), 250. 
how chance ? 208. 
hundred-pound, 200. 
hurricanoes, 216. 

i' the heat, 178. 
idle (=weak), 179, 183. 
idle (^worthless), 240, 243. 
images (=signs), 209. 
immediacy, 254. 
impertinency, 246. 
important ( ^importunate ) 

241. 
importune (accent), 224. 
in (=in respect to), 176. 
in (=into), 235. 
in a due resolution, 180. 



in contempt of man, 206. 
in mercy, 194. 
in my strength, 199. 
in the least, 174. 
in this trice of time, 174. 
incense, 214. 
indistinguished, 248. 
influence, 182. 
ingenious, 249. 
ingrateful, 211, 230. 
inheriting, 201. 
innocent (=fool), 226. 
intelligent, 215, 230. 
intend upon, 251. 
interessed, 168. 
intrinse, 203. 
invade, 172, 219. 
ise (=1 shall), 248. 
it (possessive), 190. 

jealous, 252. 
judicious, 221. 
justicer, 226, 238. 

kibes, 195. 
kindly, 195. 
knapped, 209. 
knee (verb), 212. 

lady the brach, 188. 

lag of, 178. 

lances (=soldiers), 254. 

last and least, 167. 

late (=lately), 190, 224. 

launch (=lance), 197. 

let-alone, 254. 

letters (=letter), 248. 

liberty, 166. 

light of ear, 221. 

like (=likely), 177. 

like (=please), 174, 204. 

lily-livered, 201. 

Lipsbury pinfold, 200. 

list (transitive), 256. 

little world of man, 215. 

little-seeming, 174. 

living (=property), 187. 

loathly (adverb), 196. 

long-ingraffed, 177. 

look (=look for), 219. 

looped, 219. 

lord's dependants, 230. 

lose(=causeto lose), 176, 181. 

lowness, 220. 

lym, 227. 

madded, 236. 

Mahu, 224. 

main (=mainland), 214. 

make from, 171. 

make nothing of, 215. 

make return, 210. 

make such a stray, 174. 



makes his generation mess- 
es, /70. 

makes not up, 174. 

man of salt, 247. 

manners (number), 257. 

marble-hearted, 192. 

marjoram, 245. 

material (=nourishing), 236. 

matter (=sense), 246. 

mature (accent), 249. 

maugre, 255. 

means, 233. 

means (singular), 240. 

meiny, 208. 

memories ( = memorials ), 
249. 

mend and mar, 169. 

men's impossibilities, 244. 

Merlin, 219. 

mew (=restrain), 238. 

milk (^pastures), 168. 

milk-livered, 236. 

milky gentleness and course, 

. I ?4-. 
minikin, 227. 
miscarried, 251, 252. 
miscreant, 173. 
modest, 208, 249. 
Modo, 224. 
moe, 195. 
moiety, 165. 
monsters (verb), 175. 
moonshines, 178. 
mopping and mowing, 234. 
moral, 237. 
more corrupter, 204. 
more harder, 218. 
more headier, 209. 
more, more woful, 256. 
more ponderous, 167. 
more worse, 205. 
more worthier, 174. 
mortified, 207. 
most poorest, 206. 
mother (=hysteria), 208. 
motion (in fencing), 196. 
motley, 188. 
much (=great\ 205. 
my made intent, 249. 

natural, 199. 

natural fool of fortune, 247. 

naught, 210. 

naughty, 222, 231. 

neat slave, 201. 

necessity's sharp pinch, 212. 

nether, 238. 

nether-stocks, 208. 

nettles, 240. 

nicely, 204. 

nighted, 241. 

noiseless, 236. 

nor other foulness, 175. 



266 INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED. 



not (transposed), 198, 235. 
note, 215, 242. 
note (=warrant), 253. 
notice (^attention), 213. 
notion (=mind), 191. 
nuncle, 187. 

O, 189,232,236. 

observants, 204. 

ceillades, 242. 

o'erlook (=look over), 252. 

o'er-read, 179. 

o'er-watched, 206. 

of (with verbal), 183. 

of her bosom, 242. 

offend (= injure), 177. 

office (=service), 209. 

old (=wold),223. 

old course of death, 232. 

oldness, 179. 

on capital treason, 254. 

on every trifle, 183. 

on necessity, 181. 

one-trunk-inheriting, 201. 

only (transposed), 171. 

on's, 187, 195. 

operation of the orbs, 170. 

opposed, 238. 

opposeless, 244. 

opposites, 254. 

ordinance, 236. 

other (plural), 190. 

other (transposed), 191. 

our means secure us, 233. 

out (= abroad), 165. 

out-wall, 216. 

overture, 232. 

owe (=own), 174, 188. 

packings, 216. 

packs, 253. 

pain (=labour), 216. 

'parel, 234. 

particular, 194, 252. 

party (=side), 196, 248. 

pass (=die), 244, 259. 

pass upon, 230. 

pat, 182. 

pawn down, 179. 

peace (verb), 245. 

pelican, 221. 

pelting (=paltry), 207. 

pendulous, 220. 

perdu, 250. 

perdy, 209. 

perforce, 236. 

persever, 225. 

piece (=masterpiece), 245. 

pieced, 174. 

pight, 197. 

Pillicock, 221. 

plain (verb), 216. 

plate (verb), 246. 



plight (=pledge), 170. 

plighted (=folded), 177. 

plucked, 238. 

poise (=weight), 199. 

policy, 179. 

port (=refuge), 206. 

portable, 230. 

ports (=portals), 198. 

poverty (concrete), 219. 

power (=army), 216. 

powers (=army), 235. 

practices (=plots), 183, 209, 

255; 

practised on, 218. 
prefer (=commend), 177. 
pregnant, 198, 247. 
prescribe not us, 177. 
presently, 208, 209. 
press-money, 244. 
pretence (=design), 180. 
prevent (=avoid), 224. 
profess, 184. 
promised end, the, 257. 
proper (=comely), 165. 
proper deformity, 237. 
provoking merit, 225. 
pudder, 217. 

puissant (dissyllable), 256. 
pur, 227. 
put on, 190, 199. 

quality (=temper), 209, 210. 

queasy, 196. 

questrists, 230. 

quicken, 231. 

quit (=acquit), 196. 

quit (=requite), 232. 

rail on, 201. 

rake up, 248. 

rank (=gross), 190. 

razed, 184. 

reasoned, 252. 

regards (=considerations), 

176. 
remember (=remind), 184. 
remorse (=pity), 238. 
remotion, 209. 
renege, 203. 
repeals (=recalls), 230. 
reposal, 198. 
resolve me, 208. 
respects of, 176. 
retention, 254. 
revenges, 230. 
revenue (accent), 171. 
reverbs, 172. 
riched, 166. 
rings (=sockets), 256. 
rip their hearts, 248. 
roundest (=plainest), 184. 
rubbed (=hindered), 205. 
ruffle, 214. 



sa, sa, sa, sa, 247. 

safe and nicely, 255. 

safer ( = sounder), 244. 

Saint Withold, 223. 

sallets, 223. 

sampire, 242. 

sapient, 226. 

Sarum, 203. 

save thee, 195. 

savour, 191, 237. 

saw (=saying , 205. 

say (=assay), 255. 

scape, 190. 

scattered, 216. 

sea-monster, 192. 

secure, 233. 

self, 167. 

self-covered, 238. 

selfmate and mate, 239. 

sennet, 165. 

sepulchring (accent), 210. 

sequent, 181. 

sessa, 222, 228. 

set (=stake), 188. ■ 

set my rest, 170. 

seven stars, 195. 

shadowy (=shady), 166. 

Shakespeare's Cliff, 235. 

shall (=will), 165. 

shealed peascod, 189. 

short, 250. 

show ( = appear), 192. 

shrill-gorged, 244. 

sights, 244. 

silly-ducking, 204. 

simple-answered, 231. 

simples (=herbs), 241. 

simular, 218. 

sinews (=nerves), 229. 

sir, 209. 

sith, 173, 213. 

sizes, 212. 

slack ye, 213. 

slaves (verb), 234. 

sliver, 237. 

smilets, 239. 

smooth (^flatter), 203. 

smug, 247. 

smulkin, 224. 

snuff, 244. 

snuffs, 215. 

so (=be it so), 204. 

so (omitted), 250. 

something (adverb), 165. 

sometime (adjective), 170. 

some year, 165. 

soothe (=humour). 225. 

sop o' the moonshine, 201. 

sophisticated, 222. 

sot (=dolt), 236. 

space, 166. 

speak for, 192. 

speculations, 215. 



INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED. 267 



speed you, 247. 

spherical predominance, 181. 

spill (=destroy), 217. 

spite of intermission, 208. 

split my heart, 256. 

square of sense, 167. 

squiny, 245. 

stand in hard cure, 229. 

stand in the plague, 178. 

star-blasting, 220. 

stelled, 231. 

still (=ever), 194. 

still-soliciting, 176. 

stock (=put in stocks), 205, 

212. 
stomach (=wrath), 254. 
stone (=crystal), 257. 
store, 227. 
strain (=race), 254. 
strained (^excessive), 173. 
strangered, 174. 
strong, 198. 
strook, 211. 
strucken, 185. 
subject (collective), 245. 
subscribed, 178. 
subscription, 217. 
succeed (=come to pass), 

182. 
success (=issue), 256. 
such . . . that, 175. 
sufferance, 229. 
suggestion, 198. 
suited (=dressed), 249. 
summoners, 218. 
sumpter, 213. 
superfluous, 234. 
superflux, 220. 
superserviceable, 201. 
supposed (=pretended),255. 
surgeon, 247. 
suum, mun, nonny, 221. 
swear (=swear by), 173. 

tadpole, 223. 

take all, 215. 

take patience, 210. 

taken, 194. 

taking (=malignant), 211. 

taking-off, 252. 

tame, 236. 

teem, 193. 

tell (=count?), 208. 

temperance, 249. 

tender of a wholesome weal, 

190. 
tender-hefted, 211. 
terrible (—affrighted), 179. 
that (=in that), 167. 
that (=where), 206. • 

that ... as, 184. 



the (with verbals), 240. 

thee (reflexive), 192. 

thee (=thou), 189, 257. 

there's life in 't, 247. 

these kind of knaves, 204. 

think'st 't is much, 219. 

this', 246. 

this fortune on me, 255. 

this great world, 245. 

this two days, 185. 

thoroughly, 251. 

thought-executing, 216. 

three-suited, 200. 

thwart (adjective), 193. 

tike, 227. 

till further settling, 251. 

time (=life), 177. 

times', 234. 

tithing, 223. 

to (=against), 238. 

to boot, 248. 

Tom o' Bedlam, 182. 

top (=head), 211. 

top (=overtop), 178, 256. 

toward (=at hand), 196,219, 

247. 
tranced, 256. 
treachers, 181. 
trick (=peculiarity), 245. 
trilled, 238. 
trowest, 188. 
trundle-tail, 227. 
trust ( =trustworthiness ), 

199. 
tucket, 198. 
Turlygod, 207. 

unaccommodated, 222. 
unbolted, 202. 
unbonneted, 215. 
unconstant, 177. 
under globe, 205. 
undo this button, 258. 
ungoverned, 241. 
unkind, 176, 220.- 
unnumbered, 243. 
unpossessing, 198. 
unprized, 176. 
unremovable, 209. 
unsanctified, 249. 
unspoke, 176. 
unstate myself, 180. 
unsubstantial, 233. 
untented, 193. 
untimely (adverb), 232. 
upon (=against), 229. 
upon his party, 196. 
upon respect, 208. 
upon the gad, 178. 
upward (noun), 255. 
usage (^treatment), 208. 



validity, 167. 

vanity the puppet's part, 

201. 
vary (noun), 203. 
vaunt-couriers, 216. 
venge, 238. 
very pretence, 185. 
villain (=serf), 232. 
virtue (—valour), 254. 
vulgar, 247. 

wage (=contend\ 212. 

wage (=stake), 172. 

wagtail, 202. 

walk (=go away), 222, 252. 

wall-newt, 223. 

walls are thine, the, 254. 

washed (of tears), 176. 

waterish, 176. 

wawl, 246. 

web and pin, 223. 

weeds (—garments), 249. 

well flown, bird ! 245. 

well-favoured, 213. 

wert better, thou, 222. 

what (=who), 255. 

what (=whoever), 254. 

what will hap, 230. 

whelked, 244. 

where (^whereas), 179. 

which (=who), 192, 247. 

whiles, 206. 

white herring, 227. 

who(=which), 170, 179, 238. 

who (=whom), 184, 238, 257. 

whoop, Jug, I love thee! 

191. 
wield, 166. 

wind me into him, 180. 
wind up, 249. 
wit shall ne'er go slipshod, 

.195- 
with (=^by), 213, 214. 
with checks as flatteries, 

etc., 183. 
wooden pricks, 207. 
word (=watchword), 245. 
worships (=honour), 192. 
worsted-stocking, 200. 
worth the whistle, 236. 
worthied, 204. 
writ, 179. 
write happy, 253. 

yeoman, 226. 

yond, 243. 

you were best, 187, 222. 

young bones, 211. 

your honour, 180. 

zed, 202. 



SHAKESPEARE. 

WITH NOTES BY ¥M. J. ROLFE, A.M. 



THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 

THE TEMPEST 

JULIUS CAESAR. 

HAMLET. 

AS YOU LIKE IT. 

HENRY THE FIFTH. 

MACBETH 

HENRY THE EIGHTH 

MIDSUMMER-NLGHTS 

DREAM. 
RICHARD III. 



RICHARD THE SECOND. 
MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTH- 
ING. 
ROMEO AND JULIET 
OTHELLO. 
TWELFTH NIGHT. 
THE WINTERS TALE. 
KING JOHN. 
HENR Y IV. PART I. 
HENRY IV PART II. 
KING LEAR. 



Illustrated. 16mo, Cloth, 60 Cents per Volume ; Paper, 40 
Cents per Volume. 



In the preparation of this edition of the English Classics it has been 
the aim to adapt them for school and home reading, in essentially the 
same way as Greek and Latin Classics are edited for educational purposes. 
The chief requisites of such a work are a pure text (expurgated, if neces- 
sary), and the notes needed for its thorough explanation and illustration. 

Each of Shakespeare's plays is complete in one volume, and is pre- 
ceded by an Introduction containing the " History of the Play," the 
" Sources of the Plot," and " Critical Comments on the Play." 



From Horace Howard Furness, Ph.D., LL.D., Editor of the "New 
Variorum Shakespeare.'''' 

In my opinion Mr. Rolfe's series of Shakespeare's Plays is thoroughly 
admirable. No one can examine these volumes and fail to be impressed 
with the conscientious accuracy and scholarly completeness with which 
they are edited. The educational purposes for which the notes are writ- 
ten Mr. Rolfe never loses sight of, but like " a well-experienced archer 
hits the mark his eye doth level at." 



Rolfe'' s Shakespeare. 



From F. J. Furnivall, Director of the New Shakspere Society, Loudon. 

The merit I see in Mr. Rolfe's school editions of Shakspere's Plays 
over those most widely used in England is that Mr. Rolfe edits the plays 
as works of a poet, and not only as productions in Tudor English. Some 
editors think that all they have to do with a play is to state its source 
and explain its hard words and allusions ; they treat it as they would a 
charter or a catalogue of household furniture, and then rest satisfied. 
But Mr. Rolfe, while clearing up all verbal difficulties as carefully as any 
Dryasdust, always adds the choicest extracts he can find, on the spirit 
and special " note " of each play, and on the leading characteristics of its 
chief personages. He does not leave the student without help in getting 
at Shakspere's chief attributes, his characterization and poetic power. 
And every practical teacher knows that while every boy can look out 
hard words in a lexicon for himself, not one in a score can, unbelped, 
catch points of and realize character, and feel and express the distinctive 
individuality of each play as a poetic creation. 

From Prof. Edward Dowden, LL.D., of the University of Dublin, 
Author of "Shakspere : His Mind and Art.'''' 

I incline to think that no edition is likely to be so useful for school and 
home reading as yours. Your notes contain so much accurate instruc- 
tion, with so little that is superfluous ; you do not neglect the aesthetic 
study of the play ; and in externals, paper, type, binding, etc., you make 
a book " pleasant to the eyes " (as well as " to be desired to make one 
wise ") — no small matter, I think, with young readers and with old. 

From Edwin A. Abbott, M.A., Author of " Shakespearian Grammar.'''' 

I have not seen any edition that compresses so much necessary infor- 
mation into so small a space, nor any that so completely avoids the com- 
mon faults of commentaries on Shakespeare — needless repetition, super- 
fluous explanation, and unscholar-like ignoring of difficulties. 

From Hiram Corson, M.A., Professor of Anglo-Saxon and English 
Literature, Cornell University, Ithaca, A r . Y. 

In the way of annotated editions of separate plays of Shakespeare, for 
educational purposes, I know of none quite up to Rolfe's. 



Rolfe's Shakespeare. 



From Prof. F. J. Child, of Harvard University. 

I read your " Merchant of Venice" with my class, and found it in every 
respect an excellent edition. I do not agree with my friend White in the 
opinion that Shakespeare requires but few notes — that is, if he is to be 
thoroughly understood. Doubtless he may be enjoyed, and many a hard 
place slid over. Your notes give all the help a young student requires, 
and yet the reader for pleasure will easily get at just what he wants. 
You have indeed been conscientiously concise. 

Under date of July 25, 1879, Prof. Child adds: Mr. Rolfe's editions 
of plays of Shakespeare are very valuable and convenient books, whether 
for a college class or for private study. I have used them with my 
students, and I welcome every addition that is made to the series. They 
show care, research, and good judgment, and are fully up to the time in 
scholarship. I fully agree with the opinion that experienced teachers 
have expressed of the excellence of these books. 

From Rev. A. P. Peabody, D.D., Professor in Harvard University. 

I regard your own work as of the highest merit, while you have turned 
the labors of others to the best possible account. I want to have the 
higher classes of our schools introduced to Shakespeare chief of all, and 
then to other standard English authors ; but this cannot be done to ad- 
vantage, unless under a teacher of equally rare gifts and abundant leisure, 
or through editions specially prepared for such use. I trust that you 
will have the requisite encouragement to proceed with a work so hap- 
pily begun. 

From the Examiner and Chronicle, N. Y. 

We repeat what we have often said, that there is no edition of Shake- 
speare's which seems to us preferable to Mr. Rolfe's. As mere specimens 
of the printer's and binder's art they are unexcelled, and their other 
merits are equally high. Mr. Rolfe, having learned by the practical ex- 
perience of the class-room what aid the average student really needs in 
order to read Shakespeare intelligently, has put just that amount of aid 
into his notes, and no more. Having said what needs to be said, he stops 
there. It is a rare virtue in the editor of a classic, and we are propor- 
tionately grateful for it. 



Rolfe's Shakespeare. 



From the N. Y. Times. 

This work has been done so well that it could hardly have been done 
better. It shows throughout knowledge, taste, discriminating judgment, 
and, what is rarer and of yet higher value, a sympathetic appreciation of 
the poet's moods and purposes. 

From the Pacific School Journal, San Francisco. 
This edition of Shakespeare's plays bids fair to be the most valuable 
aid to the study of English literature yet published. For educational pur- 
poses it is beyond praise. Each of the plays is printed in large clear type 
and on excellent paper. Every difficulty of the text is clearly explained 
by copious notes. It is remarkable how many new beauties one may dis- 
cern in Shakespeare with the aid of the glossaries attached to these books, 
. . . Teachers can do no higher, better work than to inculcate a love 
for the best literature, and such books as these will best aid them in 
cultivating a pure and refined taste. 

From the Christian Union, N. Y. 

Mr. W. J. RolfeV capital edition of Shakespeare — by far the best edi- 
tion for school and parlor use. We speak after some practical use of it 
in a village Shakespeare Club. The notes are brief but useful ; and the 
necessary expurgations are managed with discriminating skill. 

From the Academy, London. 
Mr. Rolfe's excellent series of school-editions of the Plays of Shake- 
speare. . . . Mr. Rolfe's editions differ from some of the English ones 
in looking on the plays as something more than word-puzzles. They give 
the student helps and hints on the characters and meanings of the plays, 
while the word-notes are also full and posted up to the latest date. . . . 
Mr. Rolfe also adds to each of his books a most useful " Index of Words 
and Phrases explained." 

Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 

Any of the above works will be sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the 
United States, on receipt of the price. 



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